


Possession

by Girrlkitty, sgcgategirl



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 193,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girrlkitty/pseuds/Girrlkitty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgcgategirl/pseuds/sgcgategirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When ancient computers and the Trust get involved, McKay and Beckett fight for the right of free will—can they regain control before it gets out of hand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Takes place immediately following the events in season two's "Grace Under Pressure"
> 
> Authors' Notes: SGC Gategirl: well, this story certainly took on a life of it's own. Much thanks go to Toni for putting up with me and for allowing me my tangents. Also much thanks to Kat and Lee for the betas—along with the YIM girls, of course.
> 
> Girrlkitty: Yes, this one definitely went in a different direction than either of us thought it would, but it was a fun ride. Thanks to Dee for letting me have a little fun with a much darker character than I’ve ever written before. Thanks to Kat and Lee for all their awesome suggestions, and last but not least, thanks to our YIM Support Group who were forced to listen to us both whine about how we weren’t sure it was a good story or not.

Doctor Carson Beckett really didn’t like going off-world. His place was back in the infirmary of Atlantis, fixing up all the people who got injured, shot at, held captive, and any number of things the teams seemed to stir up just by stepping through the Gate.

But when Rodney McKay found a mention in the database about a medical lab, and he, John Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan, and Ronon Dex had successfully made first contact with the local people, Elizabeth decided—thanks to the rather loud recommendations by one particular scientist and his military escort—that someone who was both a doctor and had the ATA gene should check it out.

Unfortunately, there was only one person who fit those criteria.

So Carson found himself hiking along behind Rodney. He made sure to use Gaelic for his muttered complaints, and questions about the parentage of those who had dragged him out here—the Ancients who had built the lab miles from the Gate, Rodney for finding the notes in the first place, and Elizabeth for ordering him on this little jaunt. They really didn’t need to know what he was saying.

Rodney glanced over his shoulder, pulling his eyes from the life signs detector he held in his hands. Raising an eyebrow, he regarded Beckett for a moment before turning back around and nearly tripping over a tree root.

Carson shook his head. "It's a wonder you manage to come back from these things alive at all if ye can't even walk in the woods."

"Usually I don't have a Scot walking behind me calling down curses in Gaelic," he muttered.

Carson caught himself from stumbling at the last second. "You, ah, speak Gaelic?"

Rodney glanced over his shoulder, a semi-blank expression on his face. "Did I say that?"

Carson eyed the Canadian. "Rodney McKay, if you speak Gaelic and never told me, I promise you there will be large needles involved next time you visit my infirmary."

"Let's just say that you keep using some of the same words over and over again, so I thought it was in my best interests to figure out what you were saying."

Lovely. The man could probably curse in Gaelic, but wouldn't know if he asked where the bathroom was. Carson was going to have to be more careful from now on. "And just when did you decide that?"

The scientist's steps faltered a little and he turned away, but not before Carson caught a glimpse of the sheepish expression on his face. "A few months after we got here." He paused for a moment, before rushing ahead. "My vocabulary in a number of languages is increasing…Czech, Japanese, Spanish, French…Latin is the most interesting, but I already know a lot of the good ones there."

Carson felt his eyes go wide. He hadn't thought anyone could understand him, so he tended to slip into his native tongue when he needed to vent, and his language at those times was a bit...colorful. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I figured it was safer that way," he shrugged. "And from what I can tell, Zelenka is a whole lot more creative than you are."

"Zelenka has to deal with you on a regular basis. It's probably driven him out of his mind." Carson felt himself blushing, recalling some of the things he had called the scientist in the past.

"Hey!" he protested, coming to a full stop and whirling on the doctor. "I may be difficult, arrogant, petty, and bad with people but that doesn't mean that I deserve to be called half the things everyone says." He paused, narrowing his eyes before turning and plowing ahead once again. "Why is it again that Sheppard wanted you here?"

Carson sighed. Rodney was right. He hadn't actually wanted to hurt the man's feelings. A corner of his mind was already working on ways he could make it up to him. Extra Jell-O next time Rodney was visiting the infirmary maybe. "I have no bloody idea. You could have just downloaded the database and brought it back for me to look at."

Rodney shot an unreadable look over his shoulder, but kept moving, eyes fixed on the device in his hands and where he was putting his feet. "There's too much in the database to transfer it," he finally said, "and there's some other…devices and equipment and whatnot there you probably need to see."

"Right, more bloody machines I have to turn on and pray it doesn't kill anyone. Lovely. Just promise me there won't be any chairs with missiles I can accidentally set off here." He fought down the urge to mutter a few more curses.

"Don't worry. Everything's already been turned on at least once and nothing's blown up or anything. Everything just seems to be pointing to medical research. You know, the squishy sciences….if you can even call it that."

"You underestimate my ability to find things to blow up." He muttered under his breath. "When do you plan to tell me what you mean by medical research? You've all been rather vague on what exactly you want me to look for."

Rodney glanced back at him briefly before turning back to the path that was growing rockier by the minute. "From what I've been able to decipher from the database, the Ancients were dealing with various things including gene therapies and manipulation as well as general…research on various sentient forms."

Despite himself, Carson perked up a bit. He could and did act as a medical doctor, but genetics was his passion. He wasn't sure what to make of Rodney's brief pause though. He decided there was something Rodney was hiding from him. "Why did'na you say that? And what do you mean research into sentient forms?"

"It's better for you to see them yourself, keep your assumptions uncontaminated from my own hypothesizes. I will tell you that as a genetics lab, it's right up your alley," Rodney said a moment later as he checked the device in his hand before tucking it into his vest pocket. "It's not far now. Just along this ridge. Ronon should be hovering somewhere near the entrance."

Before he could protest this distinct lack of information, they rounded a corner to find John, who had taken point, standing next to Ronon by a hole in the cliff wall. Carson stopped and gave them a hard look. "Decided to take a break before we go any further?"

John shrugged, his eyes tracking behind him. "Figured you'd be along soon. Wanted to give you the official welcome."

"Welcome? Rodney said we were getting close, but I din'na see anything that looks like an Ancient outpost."

"It's just a little ways down," he replied, his eyes following something moving behind Carson. "Rodney, where are you going?"

Carson turned to see Rodney heading down through the trees a bit. "Rodney?" He started to follow him.

Rodney's face flushed. "I have to…you know," he said, his hands waving and gesturing. "I don't need an audience."

Carson came to a complete stop, feeling his face go red again. "Er, right. Sorry." What was it about this planet that had him so jumpy? He usually wasn't this clingy.

Rodney nodded once before disappearing into the foliage. Sheppard cleared his throat, pulling Carson's attention back to the solider. "McKay's been a little…tense. It's close quarters in there," he said, gesturing behind him with his hand.

Carson looked around, still confused that all he saw was a blank wall. "Where? And how close? I know his claustrophobia has been a bit stronger since the jumper incident." He slipped into doctor mode.

"The entrance is around the bend," Sheppard said. "Ancients built the facility into the mountain—God only knows why. Some of the tunnels have low ceilings and the rooms aren't exactly spacious. McKay's been trying to stay in the main room, which also happens to be the largest one and has all the stuff."

Carson eyed the soldier. "Then why is he here? If you're forcing him into this, Colonel, I'll be more than a bit put out with you. There are plenty of bases without small cramped spaces that set off panic attacks." He wasn't aware that he had stalked up and was standing almost toe-to-toe with the man.

"Rodney's insisting on staying," Sheppard hissed, eyes narrowing. "As soon as I took one look at his clammy pale face when we first arrived, I suggested we have another team check it out. He refused."

The belligerence faded, and Carson sagged a bit, feeling a little embarrassed. He knew the colonel well enough to know this wouldn't be his idea of entertainment. "Sorry. I'm jumpy, but there is something about this place has me on edge." He ran one hand through his hair, stepping back out of John's personal space.

"I know what you mean," Sheppard said, eyes shifting back to the forest. He gestured with his chin and Ronon nodded once before sliding into the forest.

Carson quirked an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Just keeping an eye on him. The locals mentioned some wild game, but it's been quiet. Rather not have any….surprises." Sheppard's eyes twinkled a little.

"Great. First I get wrangled into going on a mission, then I discover said mission will take place in cramped quarters with a possibly panicky physicist for company, and now there are wild animals that could maul us while we pee." He moved over to a tree and leaned against it. "How bad was he when you were in there before? And is there any reason for any of us to leave the main chamber you talked about?"

"On a scale of one to ten? Nine-ish at first. Probably hovering around a four now, but that's pretty normal for a bad mission." Sheppard paused. "And in reality, there's no reason why he should be going outside to answer the call of nature since there are facilities in the outpost. McKay just has some issues about using them." Sheppard shrugged. "Likes the tree better I guess. As long as there's nothing out here, I don't care where he pees."

Nodding, Carson mentally went through all the supplies in his pack. Knowing the kind of things this team got up to, he had brought more than the standard field kit. Just in case. “I have a few low-grade relaxants with me. If he starts to have too much trouble, they'll help take the edge off.”

“If he’ll take them.” 

“I’ll tell him they’re Tylenol or something.”

Sheppard raised an eyebrow as McKay stumbled into view. "Everything okay, Rodney?"

"Fine," he grumbled, glancing over his shoulder at the hulking shape of the Satedan. "I do know the way."

Carson straightened up and quirked an eyebrow at John. "Well then, now that's taken care of, shall we get started?"

Rodney's mouth twisted in a frown. "Laugh it up, Beckett. We'll see if you're laughing in a few minutes." He waved his hand, gesturing to Sheppard. "Well? We'll get more done inside the facility."

Eyebrows going up, the jumpy feeling suddenly returned. "Ah, Rodney, why do you say 'see if I'll be laughing'?"

"Just wait and see. Just wait and see."

***

Rodney rubbed his face before he ducked into the main tunnel leading to the Ancient facility, trying to keep some of his panic at bay. The ceiling was not going to come tumbling down on top of him. It was perfectly safe. He'd checked it—several times.

But, it didn't make him feel any better.

With Ronon standing guard outside, Rodney followed behind Sheppard and Carson as they headed deeper inside where Teyla waited.

Carson was standing close by and he caught the man's glance sliding off him. "So, what should I look at first? Did you manage to get any of the database translated?"

"Not much," Rodney said, pointing toward the nearest door. "And we have to head through there."

Carson shrugged. "Lead on. I'm still not all that fluent in Ancient, so point me at what you think will be most useful."

"Useful?" McKay huffed, following Sheppard. "If you mean useful in the broadest sense of the term, then yes, this stuff is probably useful. I think it's worth our time to study the equipment and some of their processes, but you'd know better than anyone as to what they were doing specifically, and what we can and should re-engineer. Besides, it might help with your own genetic research projects." They turned into another hallway and Rodney knew it wasn't much further. Just a few more feet. "And why haven't you learned to read Ancient yet? We've been on Atlantis for nearly two years. It would make your life a whole lot easier."

"If this is a medical facility, and you really have found devices they used in healing, then they could be useful. I keep thinking the Ancients had to have a better way to do surgery with all that techno stuff they did. And I have'na had much time to learn Ancient."

"Healing?" Rodney turned giving him a long look. "I don't think that's what this place was for, but I'll leave it to you and your brilliant deductions," he said, taking a deep breath as soon as they stepped into the main chamber, the ceiling angling sharply upward as the walls spread out before them.

Equipment filled the room and cages and devices lined the sides—some empty, some filled with things, creatures. He ignored the sites—had spent too much time looking at them already—heading instead to the center console where his laptop was still plugged in.

Carson had stopped dead in the doorway, his eyes wide as they took in the room. "What...what is all this?"

Rodney turned back to his laptop, typing in a few commands before offering a smile toward Teyla. "Nothing happened while we were gone?"

"Ro...Rodney? What were the Ancients doing here? I thought you said they were researching gene therapy?"

"Nothing, Doctor McKay. All has been quiet," Teyla responded her voice quiet and level.

Rodney nodded, checking a few more things before turning back to Beckett. "They were."

Carson still hadn't moved from the door. "You did'na mention they were doing live experiments..." Carson's eyes found his, a bit wild. "How many...specimens...are there?"

Rodney shrugged, glancing around. "I didn't do a head-count. Sheppard?"

"There are ten in here, but room for twice that number. There's probably another twenty spread out in the labs down the hall," the soldier replied, his voice even, even though Rodney could see the tension in his friend's frame.

“Forty.” Carson slumped a little against the door. In the soft lighting of the room his face looked pale.

“Doctor Beckett?” Teyla had moved next to him, her hand on his arm. “Is everything okay?”

Carson just shook his head, his gaze fastened to the cages. He finally looked back up at Rodney. “What kind of experiments were they doing? Genetic research is one thing, trying to identify markers and manipulate them. Did they…cross that line?”

"I don't know," Rodney said honestly. "I can only get so far, but the translation program has been working at the database while I hiked back to the gate to get you."

Carefully avoiding the cages, Carson finally entered the room, making his way to where Rodney was standing. "Show me."

McKay rolled his eyes, but angled the laptop to the other man. "Here. Read all you want."

***

Carson spent the next several hours going through the database. It took him a bit to catch up to the translation program, and then he continued to read as it scrolled across the screen.

He had to fight down nausea more than once.

This was like some sort of horror show. The Ancients had wanted to know the effects different genetic markers would have on live subjects. They had spliced and muddled about with the DNA of the poor creatures that had been kept here—with mixed results. The one that finally did send him running to the nearest on-base facilities to empty out his stomach was an entry detailing how a creature that had certain mental abilities increased—it had demonstrated all the symptoms of a sentient and aware individual, even attempting to learn and use language—had been studied and essentially tortured before it had been killed.

They had continued to experiment even knowing the poor thing was aware of what they were doing and had been trying to find a way to ask them to stop.

Fortunately, Rodney and the others had been on the far side of the room, and didn’t seem to have noticed his little field trip. Straightening up, he headed for the scientist, needing to think about something else for a while, and doctoring Rodney was as good as anything.

“Hey, lad, how are you doing? Any progress?”

"Progress?" Rodney huffed. "You mean this excuse for an Ancient freak show?" He rolled his eyes. "I've looked at most everything I can out here. What did you figure out?"

Carson kept his face impassive. "It's as you said, a genetics lab. I'm not sure there's really anything here we can use."

"There has to be something we can use. I did not just spend the better part of a day trapped—" He broke off, glancing away. "There has to be something of value here."

Carson looked closely at Rodney, but while the man was tightly wound, he didn't think it was all out panic yet. He decided to let it slide for now. "Who knows why the Ancients did anything? If you'd like, we can pack up and be back in Atlantis before supper."

"With nothing to show for all of our effort? No." McKay crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down his nose at Carson.

Beckett shrugged; it had been worth a shot. "So show me what you found. Maybe I can find some use for it."

"Why are you asking me? You're the voodoo practitioner. This is your field." He paused, continuing a few beats later. "Are you sure the database didn't tell you why they left or what they were really trying to do? I was sure it would be in there."

Carson abruptly stood, moving to where several devices were lying on the floor. "Have you turned any of these on? Any idea of what they do?"

"We turned them all on once to make sure they worked. And they did. Everything is still active and working—and I've yet to find the ZPM," he said, grumbling the last bit.

"I'm sure you'll find it somewhere. I'm surprised you don't have the colonel and Teyla out looking for it." Carson picked up one device, idly turning it in his hand. He didn't think it on though, since he wasn't sure what it did.

"Trust me, I tried," he mumbled, sending a particularly murderous glance toward his two teammates. This may have been one of their earlier arguments Carson figured.

"Let's go look then." Carson dropped the device back onto the pile. "There has to be one, right? At least then we'd find something useful." And not so incidentally get them out of this hellish lab.

Rodney eyes widened a bit. "You can go look. I'll stay here and keep working. How about that?"

Carson took in the heightened breathing, the flushed face of his friend. "You know, I do have a few mild relaxants in my pack. I did'na offer them before because I didn't think you'd take them. But if you wanted to find the ZPM, it might help."

"I'm fine," he answered, his tone clipped. "I just think that if we split up we can work faster…just like I told the colonel before."

Carson nodded, looking around. "All right. So, which way should I try?"

McKay gestured toward the door at the far end of the room. "We didn't check that section too thoroughly—did we, Colonel?"

John looked up from where he had been chatting with Teyla across the room. "What, McKay?"

The astrophysicist raised an eyebrow. "Who are you sending with Beckett? He's going to check out that corridor you ran through before."

Carson casually kicked Rodney in the shin. “Don’t worry about it, Colonel. It’s nothing."

Frowning, Sheppard walked over. “What’s going on?”

"Carson, here, volunteered to investigate the rest of the facility while I stay here and work. I assume you'll be sending someone with him."

Carson glared at him. "Rodney, shut up." He aimed another kick, this time harder, at the man.

"Okay," he said, turning to the doctor. "What's with the violence? I'm attempting to help you here and I know how Colonel Steel-Trap-Mind over here thinks. Come on, he sends the Neanderthal to watch me pee in case the local badgers decide to get vicious. Do you actually think he's going to let you out of his sight in a bad sci-fi movie excuse for an Ancient lab?"

"He would have if you had'na broadcast loud and clear that I was going to check out the other labs! Can you not ever keep your mouth shut?"

"Trust me, he'd notice whether or not I told him." Rodney's arms crossed over his chest again, the glare increasing.

"I'm nae a child. I just need to take a bit of a walk. I was plenty happy going outside, but you had to bring up the possibility of a ZPM."

"I believe Doctor McKay is referring to the incident from earlier today," Teyla said, stepping into the conversation. "Colonel Sheppard was not pleased when Doctor McKay decided to investigate on his own."

Carson looked up. "What incident?"

"It was nothing." Rodney's scowl deepened.

"I believe Ronon found him outside," Teyla said simply, her eyes on Rodney.

Carson looked back and forth between Teyla and Rodney. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I simply took a wrong turn."

Carson stepped closer to Rodney. "Why is it you'll badger and beg me for stimulants, but you won't take something to help ease off the panic attacks when I offer it? I know you need to be sharp in the field, I would'na give you anything strong enough to dull your mind, only help you deal with it."

"I'm fine," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Can we just finish the check of the facility so we can be done?" He stomped off toward the other side of the room, poking and prodding several controls and checking them against the tablet PC he'd grabbed.

Carson sighed. "This from the man who just told me we could'na leave because there had to be something here to find."

McKay didn't turn. "If you look you'll find it. Why aren't you looking yet?"

"I did look and didn't like what I found." He muttered it under his breath, but started heading for the door Rodney had pointed out earlier. "I'm going."

"And Teyla's staying with Rodney, so I'll walk with you, Doc," Sheppard said, stepping alongside him. McKay waved them off absently, still focused on the screen he held.

Carson nodded, falling into step beside him. "So, ah, what exactly are we looking for? I must admit, I never paid much attention to the ZPMs or the power grids they go in."

Sheppard waved the handheld device at him. "McKay fixed this to find power sources. It'll be a snap."

"Lead on then." Carson waved a hand in front, grateful to be out of the main lab.

Sheppard's mouth twitched, but he inclined his head, stepping in front of Beckett with a murmured comment, "If it were only that easy."

"What, you mean you don't get to just stumble across ZPMs while you're out getting shot at and being taken prisoner by the natives? And here I thought it was a piece of cake."

Sheppard snorted. "You'd think it was that easy. The Ancients didn't exactly leave ZPMs lying around—no matter what McKay says."

"Aye, they'd rather spend their time—" Carson had started to say spend their time torturing innocent creatures, but he thought better of it. "—doing who knows what."

"Torturing other sentient species?"

Carson jerked, his breath catching a bit. Was he so easy to read? "Ah, um, possibly."

"It was…unsettling at first. But there had to be a good reason for it all. Right?"

Carson really wished he could tell John there had been an excellent reason for it. Instead his stomach threatened to rebel again. "I, ah, hadn't found a good reason yet, no."

"You will, Doc. You will."

***

Rodney concentrated on the tablet PC in his hands and the panel in front of him, trying to ignore the feeling that the walls and ceiling were closing in on him. He needed to get this work completed and the sooner that happened the sooner they could leave. His frequent trips to deal with nature's call were wearing thin on him and he knew that after the fifth time Sheppard had a fairly good inkling as to what was going on in his head.

And that was the last thing he needed or wanted.

Teyla was a quiet companion, offering her support and strength with a grace that only added to her beauty. He glanced up, catching her eye before giving her a brief nod and turning back to his work.

It had been like that since Sheppard and Beckett had left. She didn't crowd him, didn't complain.

But it was still unsettling for her to hover.

"You don't have to stand and stare at me you know."

"I did not realize it made you uncomfortable. Would you prefer I stand by the door?"

"Where you stand isn't really the issue," he said, sighing, glancing up at her. "The whole watched Canadian routine just doesn't go over too well. What did Sheppard tell you anyway?"

"Watched Canadian?" She had the puzzled 'the Earth people are behaving oddly again' look on her face.

He waved the hand clutching the stylus. "I'm the Canadian. A much nicer place on Earth, just north of the United States where Sheppard's from."

"I must admit I do not understand this dividing on your world. Why do you feel the need to call yourselves by different names?"

"It's what we do. What do you want? We're territorial. But you still didn't answer my question."

She shrugged, gliding over to lean against the console. "I do not know what you want me to tell you about Colonel Sheppard."

His eyebrow rose as the panel next to him lit up. "Hold that thought," he said, triggering his radio. "McKay to Sheppard. You've been gone an hour. What are you two touching down there?"

After a moment, Sheppard's voice drawled over the radio. "Aw, McKay, I didn't know you cared. And for the record, we haven't touched anything."

"Really? Huh. That's interesting." He turned back to the console, looking a little more closely at his tablet. He could feel Teyla drifting closer to him.

"McKay," Sheppard drew his name out into several additional syllables. "Wanna expand on that? Do we need to fall back to the main room?"

"No no no. We're fine," he said absently, his finger poking at several buttons on the tablet to move to some other screens. "Huh."

Carson's voice suddenly cut on the line, sounding tight. "Rodney, there is'na much down here. What's going on up there?"

"Are you sure you didn't touch anything? Because I'm getting an increase in power to this room. Nothing of the 'things might blow up' scale of things, mind you. But it's turned a few more lights on."

After a few heartbeats of nothing, Carson, sounding a bit guilty, came back on. “I might have, ah, touched a wall and a panel started glowing.”

“What?” Sheppard sounded irritated.

“Yes, well, it was in an unused room, and you were busy so I didn’t think—“

“McKay, this is Sheppard. I’m going to check out the room. Stand by.”

"Don't touch anything else!" he hollered, shaking his head as he turned his radio off, turning toward Teyla who was still leaning against the wall, shoulder hovering on the edge of one of the smaller compartments. "Beckett should know better than to touch things."

She offered a slight smile. "He reminds me of another person when he first began off-world missions. As I recall, there was much running and many angry tribes during those first few months."

"It wasn't my fault," he grumbled. "Talk to Colonel Kirk about it. Oh, hello," he said, his forehead furrowing as he squinted at the tablet in his arms. "That's strange."

He moved a few feet down wall, watching as the data changed with every step. He glanced back toward his teammate. "Teyla, stay there for a minute, will you?"

Her back straightened even further, but she paused mid-step. "What have you found?"

"I'm not sure," he said after a moment as he continued to check the readings he was getting. "Just stay there while I try and sort this out."

"As you wish." She inclined her head. "However, do you not think we should inform Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Beckett of your readings, and perhaps have them return here?"

"No. Whatever happened started down there, but it's showing up on the panels here. I just don't understand…I hate Ancients sometimes."

"Precisely. If you are seeing changes here that began there, should we not at least warn them? As Colonel Sheppard is fond of saying, it is better to be overly cautious than dead or injured."

"It's fine," he said, waving her off as he poked at a few more onscreen buttons. "Oh…" He looked up, his eyes glancing around the room. "Did you close the doors before?"

Her eyes darted to the doors, her posture stiffening. "I did not." She reached up to activate her radio. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla. Doctor McKay is getting many readings on the machines up here, and the doors to the outside have all closed."

"That's not going to do much good, Teyla," Rodney said, shaking his head. "It looks like the room has started to cycle through a program."

"This is Sheppard. We should be there in a minute. The walls are all starting to glow down here, although so far I haven't seen anything besides the lights. Stay put and wait for us."

"Sheppard, you might have to force the doors," Rodney said, swallowing thickly. "It looks like this room was locked down for some reason."

A string of curses came through the radio. "We're right outside the door now and it isn't responding. Anything you can do, or do I try shooting it?"

"Let me guess, you were already on you way back," Rodney commented, the tone sarcastic.

"Let's just say I didn't like the way the walls just started glowing."

Carson came on again, his breathing hard. “The bloody bastard had me running though the halls!”

"Figures," Rodney huffed, his attention pulling back to the screen that was flashing on his tablet. "And that doesn't look good."

"Rodney, Teyla, stand back from the door. I'm going to try forcing our way in." Sheppard's voice was tight.

"We are currently on the far side of the room," Teyla replied even as McKay continued to stab at his computer touch screen, pausing for a moment once the colonel's order processed.

"No! Don't do that," Rodney said, his eyes wide. He knew he was starting to panic, but he had a good reason. Trapped in a mad scientist version of a genetics lab was a good excuse to panic.

"Then give me a good reason not to, or open the damn door."

"First, I can't override it. Second, there's a force field or something. I'm trying to figure out how to get it down."

"Rodney, this is Carson, did you just say there's a force field over the room? Or over the whole facility?"

"There appears to be a force field blocking entry to this room," Teyla replied as Rodney pulled the cable connecting him to the wall console free.

"Teyla," he said, turning briefly to her, "just stay where you are. I'm not sure what else might happen."

"Rodney, did you look at the database you had translating for me? When I was reading it earlier, I thought I saw something about a containment field for, ah, specimens. I thought I saw something about temporary overrides to allow personnel from other parts of the facility to gain access to the room, but to be honest I did'na look that close."

"I'm on it, but I still don't know what triggered it."

"Doctor McKay?"

He turned toward Teyla, his eyes widening as he spotted something encircling her mid-section and wrists. "Teyla!" he yelled, dropping his tablet as he rushed back toward her even as her eyes fluttered, her body beginning to slump against the wall, offering little or no resistance.

"McKay what the hell is going on in there? Get me in there now!" Sheppard was using the command voice.

"Something has Teyla. I think it drugged her," he said stopping suddenly in his headlong rush when he bounced back sharply, nearly losing his footing. There was a force field around her, keeping them apart.

"And I can't get to her," he said, feeling his eyes widen further as it pulled her back into one of the empty containment containers. "I have to shut down the system. It pulled her into one of the cells," he reported, his voice pitched high. He moved back to the console along the wall, trying to sort through the buttons and dials.

A string of Gaelic curses came over the line. "Rodney, you have to shut it down. That room was the primary location where they did genetic experimentation. Don't let it give her any injections!"

"What to you think I'm trying to do?" he asked, his fingers flying over the console as he tried to get something to respond. "It's not like I'm here twiddling my thumbs and I think it gave her something already. I think she's unconscious." He glanced over his shoulder again, his eyes settling on his teammate for a moment—her body slumped in the corner of the cage, her eyes closed, but she was breathing evenly. That was something, at least.

He moved to the next console when the first one didn't give him what he needed to see. Cold metal around his left wrist made him pause, watching with morbid fascination as other tentacles reached out for him.

"Oh no."

"McKay?"

"No no no no no. This can't be happening," he said, trying to pull himself free, only to find himself held firmly, the one tentacle gripping his wrist pulling him forward even as he tried to resist. "It shouldn't be doing this. I have the gene. I'm not some kind of lab experiment."

"Lab experiment? Rodney, please tell me the machines don't have you too." Carson sounded a bit strangled.

"Then I won't tell you," he said, shivering as another metal piece grabbed his right wrist, forcing him into the small cage at an even faster rate. A prick on his wrist only made him panic more. "You have to get us out of here. Now."

"We're trying to get in." Rodney heard the sound of gunshots outside the door, a part of him hoping that it would be enough but knowing it was too late. His eyelids and body suddenly felt heavy, the air thick.

“It must be able to tell the difference between natural gene carriers and the synthesized version," Carson was saying, the words seemingly coming from a long distance away. "The equipment here is far more advanced than mine, if any facility was likely to be able to make a distinction between the two, this would be it.”

"Carson," said Rodney, slurring the word. "I don't feel so well."

"Hang in there. We're doing the best we can. The colonel's setting a C4 charge to try and blow the door. Try and stay awake for me, okay?"

"Should open once the program finishes," Rodney said absently, noting with vague interest that he had more or less been manhandled into one of the cages. At least it was empty. And he knew it should bother him more, but right now it didn't and he didn't know why.

"Rodney! Come on, lad. Keep talking. Tell me what you were able to find before you got pulled away from the console." Carson's voice was low, soothing with only a hint of panic.

"Containment," he chuckled, watching with a vague fascination as the doors shut and the force shield activated with a hum. "We must be some kind of game or something." He slumped into one of the side walls, sliding to the ground.

Vaguely he knew Carson and Sheppard were yelling at him, but he didn't care. It was getting dark and that meant it was time for a nap. His eyes slid shut and he felt himself slowly tilting over until his shoulder hit the floor, his head following a moment later.

He'd worry about everything later.

***

Carson Beckett shared a quick glance with John Sheppard, full of worry and frustration that they couldn’t get in, as Rodney’s voice faded. Just before they could blow the C4, however, the door suddenly opened, the pale blue glow that had surrounded it faded.

Carson bounded into the room, stopping in horror at the sight of his two friends crammed into tiny containment cages, both out cold with a blue shield surrounding them. “Oh no. No. Rodney, din'na do this to me.” He went over to try and touch the cages, but jumped back when a mild shock coursed through him as soon as he touched the field.

"Beckett?" Sheppard's voice was tight.

He moved back to the console, frustrated that more than half was still in Ancient. "I don't know. I can only speculate that because we have the gene naturally it does'na see us the same way. I have no idea what this bloody thing is doing to them." He sat back down at the computer Rodney had set up for him earlier, wishing he knew how to redirect the translation program to tell him what the system had just done, instead of the old records it was still plowing through. "Do you read Ancient?"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, the 'are you kidding me' look giving him all the answer he needed. The colonel moved over to where Rodney and Teyla were trapped, staying away from the shield but eyeing them carefully. "I can see a drop of blood on Teyla's wrist, but that's all."

"Probably a sedative of some sort. From what I was able to get earlier, they first subdued their subjects and took a blood sample for analysis and to serve as the baseline. Once that was done, the technicians would control which genetic sequencing they were injected with, wait a few days to see the results, and then start all over again until the subject died." He kept skimming the translated text, trying to find a clue as to why the system had suddenly decided to work again.

"Well, the sedative part is working well," he said dryly, tapping his radio. "Ronon, come in."

"Yeah." Ronon's voice rumbled through the headset.

"Status?"

"Quiet. You?"

"Not so much," he said grimacing as he paced over to stand in front of Rodney's prison. "We might need some back-up."

"Need me down there?"

"Hang on a second." He turned toward Carson. "Beckett, is it safe to have Ronon come in?"

Carson looked up from the terminal, blinking a few times as he pulled himself back to reality. "No. No one who does'na have the gene naturally should come in here. I still don't know what caused the system to activate, and I don't want to risk it."

"Okay." He turned back to McKay, sighing and shaking his head before he continued. "Ronon, I need you to go back to the gate and radio Atlantis. We need another team—medical and military, but only gene carriers. Natural carriers. Got it?"

"On my way."

"Need anything, Beckett?"

"A faster bloody translator would be nice." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back. He had caught up with the English text again. "I need to get at them. I need to know if they were injected with anything more than a sedative. There has to be a way around the containment field."

"Doc, I'm talking equipment and personnel. Anything or anyone specific?"

"I have a slightly better than basic field kit, so any emergency and research equipment they can easily bring from my lab would be helpful. If their genes are being manipulated, it'll be faster if I can use things I'm familiar with. I'd appreciate it if you could have the emergency staff put on stand-by back in Atlantis."

Sheppard nodded, relaying Beckett's instructions.

"Got it. Anything else?" Ronon asked, his voice rumbling over the radio.

"A time machine maybe," Sheppard replied quietly, briefly catching Carson's eye as he visually checked on both Teyla and Rodney. With the force fields in place, there wasn't much more either of them could do.

"I'll ask Zelenka."

Sheppard chuckled humorlessly. "If he has one, tell him I'm upset that he's been holding out on me. Hurry back. Sheppard out."

Carson paced around the cages, eyeing his patients from every angle possible. "Besides the sedatives, I don't think they've been injected with anything else. The research being done here was too delicate to leave it to automatic systems. Containment, however, if one of the subjects got loose, could have very well been what we accidentally triggered."

"Could it have recognized you as the medical researcher, the doctor? Everything was fine before. Ronon, Teyla, McKay, and I were wandering through here for a few hours before he decided he needed to get you in here to look at things. Did you bring any Ancient medical devices with you in your kit? Maybe it was able to sense it."

Carson shook his head. "I only allow basic instruments in the field kits, nothing Ancient in origin. We have too few of their devices we actually know how to work, so we don't risk them getting lost or stolen outside the city." He paused, feeling a bit sick again. "I was thinking about the research here though, comparing it to what I've done in my own lab. If there was a mental component to the facility...Bloody hell."

"Beckett…" Sheppard growled, obviously trying to keep his frustration at bay.

"I'm trying, okay! How was I supposed to know calling them all bloody idiots and wondering how they managed to sleep at night with the kinds of things they were doing was going to light the whole place up! I'm trying to think it off now, but I've never been good at that, especially when I'm stressed, so you are not helping."

Sheppard put his hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back. "I'm sorry I'm concerned about my teammates."

Carson bit back a growl of his own, resisting the urge to call the man names in other languages. "I know. I'm worried too, and that's half the problem. Try thinking the system off yourself. This technology always seems to like you better anyway."

The colonel raised an eyebrow, but nodded, closing his eyes for a moment as he concentrated. A few beats passed before he spoke. "I'm not getting anything. In Atlantis I know I'm getting through. Here, not so much."

"Right, that would be too easy. This was a top secret genetics facility, why make shutting off the system in case of a mistake easy?" He knew he was being snippy, but he couldn't help it. He only hoped Sheppard understood. Making a decision, he braced himself and tried pushing at the containment field again, ignoring the tingling and increasing pain as he tried to think it off and tell it to give him access to the subject it held.

Metal tentacles surged out of the wall, circling around Rodney's wrists and midsection, tightening down before the shield suddenly dropped. Carson fell to his knees, the sudden disappearance of the pain almost causing him to black out.

"Doc?"

After a few heartbeats, Beckett caught his breath and crawled closer to Rodney. "Bring me my kit. I want to take a blood sample and check him over as much as I can. If I move away from the cage, though, the field might come back on."

"Do you think it's wise to be in there? I can't turn it off."

"I think it more or less recognizes me as a doctor and a genetics researcher. I'm hoping that's enough to keep it from snapping closed again."

"That doesn't set my mind at ease," he said, slowly making his way to where Beckett had left his kit.

"It doesn't do much for my piece of mind either, but I need to make sure they have'na been injected with anything. If all we're dealing with is getting them out of these cages, that's one thing. If I need to start working on how to reverse genetic manipulation, the sooner I get samples, the better."

Sheppard nodded, but returned with the bag quickly, kneeling just outside the containment area as he pushed it toward Beckett. "Does he look pale or is that just the lighting?"

"Aye, he's pale, but his pulse is strong." He quickly hooked the bag with his ankle and pulled it close. Drawing out a needle, he took a vial and carefully set it down beside him. "I have several stimulants that I could use to wake him up, but I din'na want to give him anything else until I have a better idea of what he was given."

"So it let you in once you asked and once the test subject was properly restrained. Nice system," Sheppard commented, watching Beckett work.

"It didn't so much let me as realize I was'na going to go away. I got the impression there was something in the program that prevents it from injuring gene carriers, but I'm not a person it recognizes." As he talked, he continued to pull out equipment, all travel-size and packed tightly in the bag.

Sheppard reached in, grabbing his arm. "What do you mean 'not one it recognizes'?"

"I'm not one of the registered doctors for this facility, and my gene, while natural, is diluted. For now it's letting me work with the subject until it decides what to classify me as. And don't ask me how I know that, because I have no idea." He shook off the arm holding him, and went to work analyzing Rodney's blood as best he could with the limited equipment.

"I'm not sure I like you working in there right now. I can't afford to have you trapped in there, too." Sheppard's tone was quiet, level, serious.

"My patient is here, so this is where I'm..." His eyes got wide as suddenly the blue field sprang back up, creating a barrier between him and John. "Well, I guess it decided what to do with me," he said weakly.

McKay moved a little, groaning. Sheppard's eyes widened as he held Carson's gaze.

"Unless it's making sure we're protected out here since it looks like Rodney's waking up."

Carson tuned out everything else, focusing on Rodney. "That's right, wake up for me lad. I need you to open your eyes and tell me if you feel any pain."

Rodney groaned again, rolling his head to the side.

"Another security protocol?" Sheppard asked.

"Hmm?" Carson was only half listening. The field didn't leave him much room to maneuver, pushing him close into the bars. He reached into the cage, taking Rodney's wrist and counting his heartbeats, making sure they were still strong.

Two eyes slowly opened, blinking and squinting against the glare. "Carson"?

"I'm here, Rodney. Can you wake up a little for me? I have a few things I can give you, but I need to know if you feel any pain first, and describe how you feel so I can get an idea of what this bloody thing administered."

"What?" he replied, the response a little fuzzy. His blue eyes opened a little wider a few moments later and he tugged at the restraints around his wrists, his breath catching in his throat. Trying to shift away, to move, he kicked out with his feet, one hitting the bars close to Beckett. Two panels slid open on the inside of the cell and metal shot out, managing to grab onto his flailing limbs. "No no no no."

"Rodney, look at me. Take a deep breath and try to calm down. I don't want this thing to sedate you again, but if it thinks you're a threat it might try. Please, just look at me and breathe. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." Without letting his eyes leave Rodney, he cocked his head in Sheppard's direction. "Colonel, if the sedative is wearing off on Rodney, Teyla should be waking up as well. Can you check for me, and if she is, keep her calm?"

Sheppard nodded as he rose to his feet, moving off.

"Wide open spaces. Wide open spaces. Wide open spaces. Wide open spaces." The muttering continued, harsh and whispered, Rodney's eyes closed tight, his hands clenching into fists.

Carson reached into the cage again and grabbed Rodney's arm. "Focus on my touch. Focus on relaxing your body. I know it's hard, but that's the only way to make the restraints loosen their grip."

"Wide open spaces," Rodney answered, turning his head toward Carson, his blue eyes opening to latch onto Beckett. "Have to get me out of here," he finally managed to say, choking it out.

Carson kept his face encouraging. "We're working on it. We had to make sure you were okay first. I need you to tell me how you feel. Anything tingling or hurting?" He could hear the low-pitched conversation between Teyla and Sheppard. At least she seemed to be in no immediate danger—hopefully. Thankfully, Teyla didn't tend to panic in strange situations like Rodney did.

"No, no tingling," McKay replied, eyes still a little wild. "Restraints are tight, hurt."

Carson reached up, trying to see if he could get a finger between Rodney's skin and the metal. Feeling a buzz from behind, he suddenly pushed up closer to the bars and swallowed hard. "Ah, Colonel, I hate to bother you, but is it just me or is the containment field around this cage shrinking?"

"What?" Sheppard said, appearing a moment later, his eyes scanning the area. "I'd say yes, it is. Maybe trying to get you to move out?"

"Well it can keep bloody well trying, I'm not going anywhere." Before he lost the ability to move around at all, he grabbed for his bag, pulling out a syringe with a clear liquid in it. "Rodney, I'm going to give you a light relaxant now in case I can't later. It should help with the panic attacks and hopefully let you think clearer."

He nodded briskly even as Carson injected the drug. "Teyla?"

"She's in another cage. The colonel was checking on her for me." Carson glanced over his shoulder toward the soldier. "How is she doing?" He winced as the field contracted again. He couldn't get completely out of touching range now, and the pain was slowly starting to build.

"Fine," Sheppard said briskly. "Taking everything in stride. Not happy, but also not panicking."

"Good. I was right then, that all they were given was a sedative to get them quietly into the cages. Given the types of manipulations, there would be pain if anything more had been administered."

Rodney's arm began to relax under his fingers. "Good," he muttered, his eyes sliding closed a little. His body jerked a moment later, eyelids flying open. "Ow!"

"Ow?" Carson forced his eyes to focus. "What happened?"

"Pinch on my wrist," Rodney finally said, frowning. "Like before."

"Bloody hell. It must have decided you needed to be sedated again." Carson's thoughts became a litany of off-off-off-off, even though it didn't really appear to be working.

Rodney's eyes fluttered—once, twice—before closing finally, his body slumping back against the floor, half supported by the wall. The field behind Carson flickered off and the restraints uncurled, vanishing into the walls. A beat later the cell door slid open.

Rodney, though, didn't move.

Carson slumped against the cage, his body twitching as the sudden loss of pain once more threatened to leave him unconscious.

He shook his head, noticing the cage door was open. "Sheppard. Get him out. Now. Get him out of this lab before it decides to throw the field back up."

A beeping from the center of the room pulled their attention. "Beckett?" Sheppard said, rising to his feet. "Something's on the main console."

"I'll look at it in a moment," he said, moving toward Teyla. "Just get Rodney outside while you can."

Sheppard paused, but nodded, sliding past him. "Are you okay?" he asked, managing to maneuver McKay partially upright as he began dragging him into the main lab. "Are you sure it's not going to lock down the room again?"

"I've no bloody clue what this facility plans to do. I just know the cage is open and I don't want to risk this getting any worse than it is." He couldn't stop the groan that escaped as he forced himself to move. That containment field had meant business.

The field around Teyla's cage was still glowing, and he stayed just out of touching range. "Lass? You seem to be a bit calmer, so right now this bloody thing is treating Rodney as a bigger threat. I haven't meant to ignore you. How are you doing?"

"I am…unsettled, but I am not injured."

"I don't blame you, this whole thing is unsettling. Can you give me a bit better information about what it's doing?" He hoped without the veil of panic Rodney was operating under, Teyla could give him better data to work from.

"A…tentacle encircled my arm," she said, starting slowly. "I tried to pull away, but I felt something prick against my skin. Soon after, I began to feel tired. I do not remember how I came to be in this cell. While the restraint has not released my arm, I do not believe it is doing anything to me."

He opened his mouth to ask another question when a beep from the center of the room drew his attention. "Bloody hell. Beeping consoles are never a good sign. I'll go see what it's done now. Just stick with me, and if it does anything else, tell me immediately." Pushing himself up again, he started moving to the source of the new noises.

Sheppard had lowered McKay carefully, cradling his head as he stretched him out on the floor just outside the cell he'd been trapped in. He glanced up as Carson moved toward the main console he'd been working at earlier. "It looked like there was some kind of device on top that I don't remember seeing earlier," Sheppard commented.

"Lovely. And why did you stop? We already know those metal tentacles can reach up to the main part of the room, get him out of here." He slowly made his way over to the new device, eyeing it and the blinking Ancient text warily.

"Maybe because one of those things has him tethered? Right wrist."

Carson turned, letting a few curses slip out as he saw the metal still coiled around Rodney's wrist just as Sheppard has said. "Check his pulse and make sure his breathing is regular while I try and figure out what this thing is." He went back to the translation computer, which was still doing its thing.

"Strong and steady," he reported a moment later as he joined Carson at the console. "Why does that look like some kind of transponder or something? Does the screen say anything?"

"The screen says a lot of things; unfortunately I haven't the faintest clue what. I've got to wait until the translation program catches up." He slumped a bit against the console.

"And that will be when?"

"Hopefully one of the team members Ronon brings back can reset it to translate the new material first. Otherwise we could be here a few days." He realized he was starting to fade a bit, the adrenaline and fear taking its toll. "Colonel, in my med kit there's a bottle of stimulants. Would you mind grabbing me one?"

"How about a PowerBar?" he asked a moment later after eyeing him carefully, digging one out of his vest. "You look like you could do with a snack."

He shot him a quick smile. "You've been taking care of Rodney too long. A snack is not the answer to all problems."

He waved the bar. "But it will help. Eat it, doc."

"Aye. All right." He took the bar and sat heavily on the floor, where he could see Rodney and Teyla, who was still in the cage. Setting the unopened bar down, he started to push himself back up. "Lass, are you still doing okay?"

Sheppard's hand on his shoulder forced him back down. "Eat, now." His tone boded no argument.

"Yes, Doctor Beckett," Teyla replied with a light smile. "You should eat as Colonel Sheppard says."

“Good. Let me know if that changes, okay?” Turning slightly, he shot Sheppard a dirty look. "Let go of me. I need to at check her over to make sure she was'na given anything else, and take another blood sample from Rodney. Maybe I can determine what he was given this time instead of waiting for the translations."

"With the shield still up, you're not doing anything with Teyla. And Rodney isn't going anywhere. Eat, then work."

"You really are a mother hen. I never believed Rodney when he complained about it. I just thought he was exaggerating." Shaking his head, Carson picked the bar back up, eating it in three bites.

Sheppard smiled tightly, but moved away, his eyes drifting to the console and the device.

Carson reached out, catching his leg before he could get too far. He offered the man a small smile. "Colonel? Thanks. And we'll fix this."

"We better."

Carson swallowed hard, then made his way over to where he had left his kit. Moving back over to Rodney, he took another blood sample and for lack of another good surface, brought the whole thing back to the console area to try and figure out what Rodney had been given. He glanced at the screen, still translating. "I wish there was some way to speed this up. It would be quite a bit easier if I just knew what this system was doing!"

"Have you tried to access other screens?" Sheppard asked, hovering over his shoulder as Carson performed some basic blood tests. "I know Rodney can force it to translate other things when it's in this mode, I just don't know how."

"I haven't and to be honest I wouldn't even know where to start. If he wakes up again we can ask him, but I'm reluctant to touch anything for fear of messing something up."

"And god only knows when that's going to be," the colonel mumbled, turning away with a sigh.

Carson swallowed a retort, knowing the man was just frustrated. He tried for calming instead. "I'm not a scientist, I'm a doctor. I wish I knew how to use this technology better, but that's not my job. I'm the one who's supposed to keep everyone alive and healthy so they can figure it out."

"I know," Sheppard replied, his quiet the voice tense. "It's just that crap like this keeps happening. It's my job to protect the civilians, but they end up saving my ass more often than I'd like."

"It's not your fault. Everyone knew what we were getting into when we came here, and we all know the risks. Rodney does'na regret being here, although admittedly he'd probably like to spend less time paying me visits. You can'na take on the weight of the entire expedition."

Sheppard made an indistinct sound, but didn't turn around as he knelt by McKay, his hand ghosting over the man's neck, pausing long enough to check for a pulse.

Carson abandoned the blood work for a moment—it wasn't giving him anything useful anyway—and walked back over to the soldier, laying one hand on his shoulder. "I'll find a way to fix this. I've no idea how, but I will."

Sheppard tensed under his hand the silence stretching between them until he finally spoke, his voice quiet. "This was supposed to be a quiet mission, something to help him get his feet back."

"I know. From what I can tell, other than trying to calm him down, it hasn't actually hurt him yet, and I'm assuming the same goes for Teyla. She is'na fighting, so it hasn't felt the need to sedate her again. The experiments here were too delicate to trust to automatic responses other than basic containment. As long as we don't tell it to do anything, I think the worst we'll face is how to make it let them go."

"And continually drugging him is a good thing?" he asked glancing up, anger on his face.

"Of course not! If we can keep him from panicking when he wakes up next time, hopefully that won't be an issue."

"He's been on the verge for a day now, ever since we started working in here."

Carson paced away, back to the console. "I know. I could tell he was edgy when he came to get me." Without really thinking about it, he picked up the new device that had appeared, looking it over.

"Beckett…" Sheppard growled as he rose to his feet, pacing over a few steps, reaching for the small device. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Hmm?" He turned, startled John had gotten so close, throwing his arm up in surprise. He wasn't expecting the small device to decide to attach itself to his head as soon as it got close enough. He felt his eyes widen as his legs gave out from underneath him, a sudden barrage of information assaulting him "No, don't speak Ancient, slow down..."

"Beckett! Damn it!" Sheppard said, grabbing Carson's arms and stopping his downward descent.

Carson heard a whimper and realized it was him. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus has images and words seemed to invade his mind, all in Ancient. Even more frightening was that he was starting to understand what it was downloading into his head. "Too much. Stop. I don't want this..."

Fingers grabbed at the device on the side of his temple, trying to tug it off. "If you hadn't put it there in the first place…" The grumble continued, constant and tight, even as he was pulled against a warm body, an arm across his mid-section keeping him on his feet. "Come on, Carson, fight it."

Pain shot through him as John tugged on the device. "Stopstopstop! No. Colonel..." He swallowed hard, letting his body lean back against the soldier as he struggled to keep track of what were his own thoughts and what were bits and pieces of outside data. "Information. It's an interface. Downloading the database. Maybe help Rodney and Teyla?"

"Sure, if you don't pass out first," Sheppard grumbled, but his fingers stopped tugging at it, his other arm snaking around to help Carson stand.

"Just have to... Need to adjust. Think it's rewriting my brain patterns to make it understandable. Ancient I mean. Hurts, but could be useful." He felt himself shudder slightly. He hated dealing with Ancient technology.

He felt Sheppard lowering him down, leaning him back against the cold metal of the console in the center of the room. "Damn it," the soldier muttered, the two words quiet, tense.

"Colonel?" Carson felt the loss of warmth and opened his eyes again.

Sheppard turned to him, eyes blazing. "Did you do that?" He gestured, his hand pointing back to the small cell that once again housed an unconscious McKay—the bars and force field back in place.

Carson looked, then had to close his eyes again at the onslaught of information. "Automatic system. It…I think it decided he was a threat to me and moved him back into containment. I get the feeling all the auto systems are designed to protect the researchers. They...most of what they were experimenting on were sentient."

"Let me guess, he's trying to wake up and the system doesn't like that." The sarcasm was thick. "Just shut it down."

"No. Not waking up. He was just out of the cage. And I can't shut it down."

Sheppard sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "What can you do?" he asked quietly, his words clearly enunciated.

Carson winced at the tone. His head was starting to hurt. "Right now, let me sort through all of this. I just had an entire medical database downloaded into my brain. It's all jumbled together."

Sheppard nodded, evidently catching the wince since he reached down to snag Carson's medical kit, pulling out a blister pack of two pain killers. "Might want these, doc."

"Thank you." He took them and dry swallowed. After a few minutes of sorting through the information he now had instant access to, he started to feel sick. "This is all my fault. The systems activated because they somehow recognized me as a doctor. Rodney has had the gene therapy so he was tagged as a specimen, and Teyla has some Wraith DNA, which means she was tagged as well. It's waiting for me to tell it what experiments to run."

Sheppard's face paled. "Can't you just tell it that the experiments are over for today and that we're all going to pack up and go home with our friends?"

He pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them to try and stop the shaking. "I tried that. I got back some sort of security protocol. Once a specimen has been identified, they weren't supposed to leave until they were dead."

"What! That's not exactly what I want to hear."

"I think I've put all experiments on hold, and I might be able to override the automatic suppression system so it will stop drugging Rodney." He rested his head against his arms. "At least I know what drugs they were given now."

"And? Will it interfere with what you gave him too? And how do you expect to keep him quiet and calm when he's in there?" Sheppard shook his head, moving a few paces away. When he continued his voice was quieter. "I'm sorry, but this whole situation has gotten way out of hand and I'm not sure what good I am here. I just want to do something."

"I'm sorry." He said it so quietly, he didn't know if Sheppard had even heard him.

"It's not your fault, I know," he said. "I'm just…frustrated."

"It is my fault." He closed his eyes, and tried to force his body to relax. He knew he was only making the headache worse by holding himself so tense. "There are things it's not letting me access. I've a feeling only someone with the proper authority can override anything. I'll focus on trying to convince it I'm the head of facility now."

"Hey," Sheppard said, a moment later.

He didn't look up, knowing he couldn't face any more accusations. "I'm trying, I promise."

"No, not that. Can you control what the system is giving Rodney?"

"I think so. Right now I've told it not to administer any more medications."

"Can you find something that will take the edge off his anxiety, but not put him under? We could probably use his help if we can get him his tablet and if he doesn't freak out on us."

At the thought, several sedatives popped into Carson's mind. "There are a few medications, but they're all designed to knock the specimen out. And he's already been given quite a bit of drugs. Let's see if we can get him to calm down on his own, and if not I still have a few doses left of what I gave him earlier. I think I can get the shield down long enough to let me give it to him."

"We need him able to work on this."

He let out a brief giggle, knowing it probably sounded slightly hysterical. "No kidding. We'd be much better off if our positions were reversed right now."

"Doubtful. We need both of you working on it. Even though McKay claims to know anything about everything, most medical things are still beyond him. He knows just enough to worry himself."

Carson started to respond, then got sidetracked, as new information started popping into the front of his consciousness. "Colonel, I think Rodney's starting to wake up."

"Really?" Sheppard sounded surprised. "Did that thing just tell you that?"

"Aye. It's monitoring his life signs, and can sense a shift as the drug is losing its hold." He pushed himself up, using the edge of the console to steady himself as the room spun a bit. He hated headaches. "I'm telling it not to administer any additional sedatives unless I specifically ask it to. The researchers occasionally needed to observe reactions, so it seems to be a command it understands."

"Good," Sheppard's hand gripped his elbow, helping to steady him. "You okay?"

"A bit dizzy, and my head still hurts. The aspirin didn't make much of a dent. I'll be all right. Grab his laptop and help me get over to him. Maybe if we can get Rodney involved in helping override the system as soon as he wakes up, we can hold off any panic attacks."

Sheppard snorted, but complied. "Didn't you know? McKay can multitask."

Carson gave him a tight grin. "Aye, but as long as he's busy, it will be low-grade enough to be manageable. We've got another few minutes before he wakes up."

Sheppard nodded, shoving the tablet under his arm as he helped Carson over to the cell, settling him down just outside. McKay was beginning to stir a little, the single metal cord still wrapped around his right wrist. "Is that ever going to release him?"

"Not on its own, no. The only conditions where the restraints release is in a security override, if the patient is dead, or if I leave this facility, in which case all remaining specimens will be euthanized and we go back to condition two. This is a nasty place. They might be the Gate builders, but the Ancients had no real concept of morality sometimes."

Sheppard's mouth tightened, his eyes narrowing. "I'm getting the picture and it just keeps getting worse. And to think we looked up to them…" He shook his head, turning back to look at McKay who was twitching a little now, his eyes moving steadily behind his lids.

"I know how you feel. The scary thing is where do you draw the line? They didn't get to this point overnight, it happened over time. I work in genetics myself, and I've crossed that line too. I have to live with that regret, but how many times do I make the expedient decision before I cease to feel regret? It's damn scary to realize as much as I hate this place, I'm going down the very same path." He mentally told the facility to drop the shield around Rodney's cage, and gave a mental sigh of relief when it did without hesitation.

Sheppard's eyebrow rose. "Did you do that?"

"Aye. I'm starting to learn the limits. Right now it's decided I'm the only qualified personnel within sensing range, which gives me access to quite a bit. But I'm not the head of the facility, which is what I need his help with." He scooted up to the bars, carefully watching Rodney's face.

"So we need him to get you the password."

"It's more than that." He looked back at John, trying to find a way to make it make sense. "Given this is a genetics lab, everything is tied to DNA. We both have the gene, which gives us protection, and it was somehow able to sense my profession. Who knows, maybe there's a gene for that too we just haven't discovered yet. The entire facility is tied together though some pretty elaborate coding. We're going to need to find a way to make it recognize my DNA over the Ancient DNA it has in its memory." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at technical explanations."

Sheppard shook his head. "It was fine."

"Pathetic." The whispered word made their heads snap around.

Carson turned back around, feeling a rush of relief at seeing Rodney awake. He concentrated for a moment and all Rodney's information popped into his mind. "Welcome back. I'd ask how your feeling, but I pretty much already know."

McKay squinted at him, his head still lolled to the side. "God. It feels like a bus hit me." he whispered, managing to hold Carson's gaze. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking several deep breaths before he opened them again. "But since you…think you know how I feel…you tell…me how I am."

Carson reached around for the laptop, pushing it through the bars. "Well, your stomach is a bit queasy, you have a headache, and you feel groggy from the effects of the drugs. You're holding the panic at bay for the moment, which I appreciate. And your wrist is chafing from the restraints." He pointed at the small device on his head. "I might have accidentally plugged myself into the system while you were out."

McKay glanced up, his eyes following Carson's hand. "That doesn't sound good."

"For the moment it's at least giving me access to everything. The translation program still isn't done, which left us at a disadvantage. One of the things it's doing is monitoring your health and life signs, and let me tell you, we all knew how much better shape Teyla was in, but I didn't realize you were this bad. When we get back to Atlantis you are cutting back on the caffeine big time."

McKay's eyes widened for a moment before he closed them and groaned. "That is so unfair."

"Just how many cups a day do you drink? I can't even imagine for your system to be this out of whack." He shook his head, then pointed to the laptop. "Which is neither here nor there at the moment. I'm only classified as a researcher, which means I can't override the system and force it to release you and Teyla. I need you to help me change that."

"Huh?" Rodney tried to lever himself up on one elbow, but closed his eyes and grimaced before he got too far, breathing heavily through his clenched teeth.

"Stop that." Carson reached through the bars, letting one hand rest on Rodney's arm. "If the headache doesn't fade in an hour or so, I'm giving you something for it. It's distracting me—I can only focus on so many things at once."

"I can only help you if I'm upright," he hissed. "I'm trying here."

"I know. Here, let me try something. I already know it won't let me get rid of the restraints entirely, but maybe..." He focused, and the tentacles, which had been holding Rodney fairly close to the back wall without much room to move, loosened up a bit, giving him some slack. "Better?"

"Better if you could take it off and get me out of here," he grumbled, pulling his right hand close to his body and resting it on his chest.

"I know. But I can't do that without your help, Rodney. I've no idea where to even begin to get around the DNA coding to initiate a security override. If you can get me in, I think I can get you and Teyla free."

McKay sighed, his body relaxing visibly.

"Beckett?" Just from the tone of Sheppard's voice, Carson knew his eyebrow was raised.

Carson shook his head. "I did'na give him anything!"

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked as McKay slowly rolled to the side, this time managing to get his arms under him and shoving upright. His eyes were closed tightly, jaw clenched together.

"I'm sure. And before you ask, the auto system didn't give him anything either. At the moment, I AM the system. The line is starting to blur a bit. I don't think it was ever designed for only one person to be plugged in at once." He rubbed a hand across his eyes. "His physical condition has'na changed."

"Can you plug me in too?" Sheppard asked as McKay finally got himself into a seated position, his back against the rear wall.

"No," McKay hissed, his eyes still closed. "Need…someone…not compromised."

"Aye, it wouldn't let you anyway. It senses you as a gene-carrier, but that's as far as it goes. Rodney, I'm going to give you a pain killer. That should help." He pushed himself up, and started working his way back over to his med kit. Why did it always seem to be wherever he wasn't today?

"I'm fine. Just give me the laptop."

Carson shook his head, returning to the cage with a syringe. "You can't lie to me at the moment, at least not about physical symptoms. Please, just let me give you this." He pushed the laptop close enough for Rodney to be able to pick it up.

McKay opened his eyes long enough for his hand to find the tablet PC next to his leg, his fingers latching on as he pulled it into his lap. "Thanks. I might need to be connected to the system, though. There was a cord somewhere." He let his head thump back against the wall as his lips mouthed silent words.

Carson swallowed, sitting back down next to the cage, as John went looking for the cord. He pitched his voice low, so it wouldn't carry much farther than where his friend was sitting. "Rodney, please let me give you this. Every time you move, I'm getting what are essentially pop-up spam messages flashing in my head warning me about what's bothering you. It's the mildest thing I have, but it will help take the edge off."

"I…can't rely on…drugs in the field. Not for this."

Sighing, Carson gave in for now. If it got worse, he could push the issue later. "Fine. Just tell me what you need me to do." He situated himself so he could watch Rodney and see Teyla, leaning back against an empty cage nearby. Now that he was getting used to it, having a console essentially plugged into your head was becoming rather convenient. He could let his body relax and work at the same time. Taking a deep breath, he just hoped they could find a way to fix this soon.

***

Rodney pushed the palm of his right hand to his head, grimacing when the cool metal cord brushed against his shoulder.

His head was killing him but at least some of the nausea has subsided. The whole panic thing was a different story all together. It rolled just beneath the surface, threatening to rise up and consume him at every unguarded moment.

He'd been working for about an hour, in between breaks he'd been forced to take when he couldn't stand the pounding in his head or the burning in his eyes. Sheppard had found him the cord he'd wanted, but it had taken a little while for the colonel to actually connect it correctly. But, what did you expect for a military grunt? Although, you would have thought a guy who could have joined MENSA could have handled connecting hardware.

The feeling of another metal band wrapping around his left hand and midsection—securing him to the rear wall—jolted him into the present even as the bars at the front slid open.

"What!" he said, panic cresting, finding it hard to draw in a breath. His now wide-open eyes watched as Carson approached cautiously.

"Rodney, I really think you need to let me give you something for the pain and the panic now. The auto systems are arguing with me about whether or not you need to be sedated."

"No!" he replied instantly, tugging a little against the restraints as Beckett settled next to him in the small cell. "I’m fine. I don't want to be sedated. I'm fine."

"I don't want to sedate you! This bloody thing has decided you're some sort of threat though. The only reason it even let me get in here with you is because either I give you something by hand, or it will." Carson reached out, setting one hand lightly on Rodney's knee.

McKay slumped against the wall, whatever little fight he had leaving his body. He nodded wearily, pain spiking in his head, panic threatening. "I just really need to get out of here."

"I know. You're making progress though. I can access more than I could before, even if I can't initiate an override yet." His hands were gentle as he took Rodney's arm, giving him the injection.

Rodney sighed. "But it's not enough. Never enough."

"It will be. We'll fix this. Just hang in there a little longer, because I can't do it without you."

"You're just saying that to make me work," he said finally, feeling a little of the panic start to ebb away. Now, if his headache would do the same.

"Would I do that?"

Rodney shrugged. "If you had to, yes. Everyone does. I'm used to it by now."

"Usually I'm trying to get you to stop working. And I'm worried about you."

Rodney snorted, opening an eye. "Well, you should be worried. Just think of the loss to humankind if my brain was lost."

"Aye, no one to snark at us and drive my nurses mad. Such a waste."

McKay huffed, slowly opening his other eye, his expression serious, his tone quiet enough so it only reached Beckett. "I'm going to die, aren't I? Teyla and I, I mean…both of us."

"No. I won't let that happen. This is just another case of technology taken to a level it never should have gone. You've gotten out of far worse, and we'll get you both out this time too. Don't give up on me."

"I read the prospectus on this place, Beckett. I know."

He shook his head. "I'll admit, this place is downright creepy, but it's not going to do anything to you. I won't let that happen."

"You're not even the goddamned head of research here! It's not like it's going to roll over and beg for you. Sheppard's the one with the Kirk gene…Skywalker gene…whatever it is."

"But we're going to fix that. You've already given me access to some of the higher systems, that's just the next step." Carson reached over and squeezed his knee. "Let's get back to work. I can't stay in this bloody cage and make it give you slack at the same time, so I have to sit outside again. Okay?"

McKay nodded, his chest clenching a little as Carson slid out, the bars dropping into place a moment later. It took a few seconds, but the extra tentacles retracted finally, leaving only the one curled around his right limb. "Any chance…" he began, holding up his trapped wrist.

Carson shook his head. "I've been trying to make it let you go, but that's one of the things I can't override without higher clearance."

He sighed again, letting the limb drop beside him. "My hand is going to turn blue if it doesn't come off soon."

"I know it isn't comfortable, but it's not cutting off your circulation, so you can rest easy that your hand will be fine." Carson gave him a weak smile. "They weren't much on the comfort of their subjects, were they?"

"When they're all going to end up dead at the end, I'd have to say no." He grimaced and let his eyes drift back down to the tablet still in his lap. "I should get back to work."

"Right," Carson sighed. "I'll be here going through the database on this end. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Fine," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the screen but not seeing anything. He hated this. Hated the stupid Ancients and their superiority complexes and their bad sci-fi movie scientific experiments. He hated worrying. Hated the prospect of dying.

He heard movement, and looked up to see Carson had shifted so he could watch what Rodney was doing, Beckett's expression worried, his comment not surprising. He was a mother-hen. "Stop worrying yourself sick."

"I'm not worrying," Rodney snapped, clenching the muscles in his jaw. "I'm working. There is a difference."

"And that's why your stomach's in knots and you're giving yourself a tension headache?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Courtesy of the Ancients, I know exactly how you're feeling at the moment, remember?"

McKay scowled, raising his hand in one of the more universally recognized obscene gestures.

"Rodney McKay! Such language!"

He glanced up, catching Sheppard watching them silently. "I had a good teacher," he said, turning back to the screen. "And you should have access to another level now."

Carson nodded, closing his eyes. After a moment he turned a bit green. "Ah, nothing really useful there. I don't think I need to probe any deeper."

"Oh, what, not interested in some of the more colorful results?" McKay couldn't help but needle the other man.

Carson shook his head. "Nae, I don't need to know that."

"Oh, why not? I actually think the one specimen that had his brain leaking out of his ears while he was conscious is a particularly good one to check out." He knew his tone was bitter, but he couldn't help it. This was unfair and he was tired of it.

Carson made a strange noise, and without another word got up and almost ran across the room to the small in-suite bathroom. Rodney could hear him losing anything he had in stomach.

Something in him was pleased that he got a response out of the doctor, but another part of him was ranting and raving that it was a stupid idea. Sheppard, on the other hand, was glaring at him.

"Nice, McKay. Send the man who holds your fate in his hands fleeing to lose his lunch."

"It's not my damn fault he has a weak stomach," McKay grumbled, scrolling through more of the reports. "Maybe I should have mentioned the one where the test subject bit off his own hand to get out of the restraints. That would make for some light reading."

Sheppard sank down into the spot Carson had vacated. "All right, want to tell me why you're trying to run him off? He's doing his best to help you."

McKay huffed, shrugging. "Because I can?" He shook his head, pausing the scrolling window. "Here's another good one. Something about the subject's brain boiling inside of its skull because of a prolonged fever while the head researcher and three lab technicians watched."

"It's not gonna happen to you and Teyla."

McKay shrugged again, his shoulders slumping. "What does it matter?"

"What the hell do you mean, what does it matter? We're gonna get you guys out of this, possibly blow the place with possibly a little more C4 than is strictly necessary, and then go home. I think tonight is Mystery Meatloaf in the mess."

He narrowed his eyes at Sheppard before turning back to the tablet, his fingers flying over the touch-screen. "Leave it alone, Colonel."

"Leave what alone? What the hell is wrong with you? I know you haven't been given any more weird drugs, so what's going on? This isn't your usual brand of stressed-out snark."

"Beckett, you should have access to another level," he said instead, not bothering to raise his voice.

“Oh dear God…” floated over to them from where Carson had been sitting.

John ran a hand through his hair. “How many levels are left?”

McKay shrugged. "As many as there are. This one has some long-term study results. You might want to get Beckett a waste basket or something so he doesn't have to keep running to the bathroom."

“That’s not an answer. I know you better than that, McKay. You know exactly how much farther you have to go to give Beckett full access. How much longer?”

He glanced up, anger in his eyes, as he shifted forward a little more. "If I knew that do you think I'd hold back that particular tidbit of information? Hmm? Do you think I enjoy sitting here in what amounts to my coffin trying to beg this computer system to let me in? You know what?" he said, tossing the tablet to the side as he moved forward, face pressed to the bars as he finally got his knees under him, his anger surprising even himself. But at this point, he didn't care. "Maybe next time you'll actually listen to me when I say 'I don't think this is a good idea'. But oh, wait, there's not going to be a next time because in a few hours my brains are going to be leaking out of my ears while you stand there and watch like it's some kind of freak show at the local circus."

Before he could take another breath he found himself yanked back against the rear of the cell, his head hitting the wall sharply, making it pound even harder. He tried to move away, get free, but the cold metal was there, latching on, holding him in place, pressed against the cool wall, the chill seeping into his back.

“Rodney!” Carson was suddenly there. “Calm down. I need you to take a deep breath and stop fighting. Please!”

"Why? Why shouldn't I fight it? You've seen what's going to happen," he said, glaring at the men outside the cell.

"All that's going to happen is that this bloody system is going to sedate you again and we have to wait for you to wake your stupid bloody arse up and get back to work!"

"So let it! Then I won't have to listen to your pathetic excuses for apologies when we all know how this is going to end."

Carson looked shocked. "You really think I'm going to let this place kill you?"

"It's not going to let me or Teyla out of here breathing. What's it going to take to get it through that thick skull of yours?"

"We'll find a way! You're letting your claustrophobia work you into a panic attack! Fight it! I don't know how to bypass these systems, and I need your help."

"I'm not going to help you kill me! Why don't you just finish it now? You already have access to it. Just one thought and everything's over. You get to go home and this will all just be one more nasty little memory." His anger bubbled and spilled over, giving his voice a bitter tone, his panic long since forgotten.

Carson's eyes hardened. "Ah, so because you feel a little helpless, you've decided to throw your own life and Teyla's away. Very nice, Rodney. I always thought that arrogant face you show the world was just to keep people at arm's length because you were scared. But I guess I was wrong, since you seem so willing to throw away your teammate's life without a second thought. Fine. I'll figure this out and get you both out. Alone." He turned and walked to the other side of the room, not waiting for an answer.

"That's just like you too, Carson. You give up when the going gets tough and you refuse to see the truth even when it's staring you in the face," McKay said, struggling more, not even paying attention when other metal tentacles reached out and tightened down. "I'm sure you'll be happy to get back to your nice safe lab and out of the field. Nothing to worry about. Nothing out of place. Nothing to offend your sensitive feelings."

"Damn you, Rodney!" He couldn't see Carson anymore, but his voice carried a sharp edge of anger. "I'm not the one giving up. I'm not the one who's decided to suicide and take a teammate with me! I'm the one who's slowly being driven insane by a damn Ancient database trying to save your sorry arse, which I'm going to keep doing even when you let this damn thing knock you out so you can wallow in your own self-pity and tell yourself it wasn't your fault!"

"Wallow! You think I’m wallowing? I'm the only one in this room who even bothers to face reality head-on. You end up living your life with your head up your ass. Don't talk to me about giving up. You're not the one trapped in his own coffin complete with a peanut gallery!"

Carson stalked back around, coming into Rodney's view. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, tense. "Just give up, Rodney. Stop fighting, curl up, and wait to die. When you walk out of here tomorrow, don't talk to me. I'll hand your patient files over to Doctor Biro when we get back to Atlantis, since you have so little respect or faith in me. In the meantime, I have lives to save, yours included."

Something inside snapped and McKay tried to lunge forward, only to be held firmly in place. "Of course Biro's getting my files. She only works on dead bodies," he growled, wincing as his strained muscles protested.

"Beckett!" Sheppard said firmly. "Do something. This isn't normal."

Carson growled. "There's nothing I can do for him like this. As it is I'm fighting this whole god damn complex to keep it from sedating him. What else would you like me to do?"

"I don't know, but this isn't the McKay I know. Something's wrong."

"See. Even Sheppard can't wait to see me dead and gone."

"Aye, he's letting his claustrophobia get the better of him, and he's had a combination of several drugs interacting to produce low-level paranoia. I can't give him anything else, all I can do is try to keep any more drugs out of his system and try to find a way to make this thing let him go."

"You can't just leave him like this," Sheppard said, his hand gesturing toward the cell.

"Still here, by the way," McKay commented, eyes narrowing. "This is his way of getting back at me for everything, you know."

Carson turned, addressing him again, his eyes still hard. "Getting back at you? God you really don't think very highly of me do you?" He deliberately turned so Rodney could no longer see his face, his words addressed to John. "The drugs should start to wear off in about thirty minutes. Once that happens, he'll return to normal. Until then I'm going to check on Teyla."

"Beckett—" Sheppard protested, only to be cut off my Rodney's bitter tone.

"Let him walk away, Sheppard. That's what he does best."

"Aye, because I've always just walked away when you needed me, haven't I? Funny, I seem to remember things a bit differently." Teyla's cage was in his line-of-sight, and Rodney could hear a low murmur as Carson bent down to speak with her.

"Don't listen to him, Teyla! He wants you to trust him, to believe him," McKay called out, trying to crane his neck to see her a little better, but the metal cord that had wrapped itself around his neck didn't give him much room to move. He knew it should bother him, make him worry. His neck was sensitive. But it didn't. And that scared him.

John moved into his line of sight, cutting off the view. "Okay, Rodney, you are seriously scaring your team leader here. Close your eyes, and try to breathe until these drugs start working their way out of your system."

"I'm breathing just fine and closing my eyes isn't going to make anything go away, so your suggestion is pointless and stupid."

"Okay, you're accusing a man I happen to know you like and respect of malpractice and trying to kill you. That's so far from normal, I don't even know what to say."

"So why are you even talking? Because from this end, I know I don't care. Dead man here!"

"You know, I'm beginning to think that, collectively, the universe hates us. Any one of the four of us can get into trouble, sure, but it wasn't until we became a team that really bad shit started happening on a regular basis. I think I believe in karma now, and we are compounding our bad stuff." He paused, cocking his head slightly. "But at least we aren't bored."

"So this is all my fault now, eh? So this is your way to get rid of me once and for all, isn't it? What, did Elizabeth force you to rescue me from that puddlejumper? Did you pick this planet because it had this torture chamber excuse of a research lab? And you, with your natural gene knew you'd be fine." A voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to calm down, to relax, that something was wrong, but he pushed it aside, shoved it down into a deep, dark corner and reveled in the rage, the anger.

John raised an eyebrow at him. "Sorry, McKay, you aren't going to run me away so easily. Doc is under a bit of stress right now, so I'll let him work it out on his own for a bit, but I've got nothing better to do than keep you company at the moment."

"Sounds about right. You must enjoy watching the fruits of your labor. Am I an entertaining sideshow for you? Do you enjoy this?"

"I can honestly say there is nothing about this I am enjoying right now," John sighed.

"Liar. I can see it in your eyes. You get off on this kind of power," he sneered, the small voice in the back of his mind clamoring to be released, telling him that goading Sheppard wasn't a good idea. But he didn't care.

"Christ, McKay. Where is all this coming from? Paranoia is one thing, but you're apparently repressing a lot of rage. Maybe you should see Heightmeyer when we get back to Atlantis."

McKay snorted. "Like I'm going back there. You know how this is going to end—just the way you planned it."

"Yeah," Sheppard drawled, "this is going to end just the way I planned it—with you and Teyla walking out of here and the whole team going back to Atlantis. Glad to see we're on the same page."

McKay shook his head as his vision blurred a little. "You lie. You couldn't wait to get me in here. Couldn't wait for me to work on the systems. I should have known better. I shouldn't have trusted you."

Sheppard closed his eyes for a moment, visibly taking a few deep breaths. "The drugs are going to start wearing off soon, which means the interaction causing this," he waved his hand in Rodney's direction, "will start to wear off too. Once it does, we can continue this conversation if you want to. I hope this isn't how you really feel, but if it is, I hope I can find a way to change your mind."

"It'll be hard to change my mind once I'm dead, you know," Rodney said, watching as Sheppard turned away. "But, that's what you want, isn't it?"

"No, Rodney, I don't want to see you dead. It's my job to be the one who dies first, so you can live on and save the city. You shouldn't be in this position at all."

"You put me here!" he yelled, tugging and struggling against the bonds that held him. "I know your type. You're tired of having to deal with the whining scientists, always demanding things. Who's next? Zelenka? Miko?"

Carson came back into view, his face still hard, but he didn't even look at Rodney. "Colonel, I need to knock him out. He's working himself up, and I think he's having an odd reaction to the Ancient drugs. His system is starting to go off the charts. I can't keep the auto system from re-dosing him again much longer, but if I give him something I've used on him before, at least we'll know it won't cause more problems."

"So that's how it's going to end, eh Carson? You're going to resort to drugs because you can't stand hearing the truth any longer? I can see your report now—an accidental overdose."

Carson's back stiffened, but he still didn't turn to face Rodney. "It’s starting to affect his thinking. If you don’t want me to sedate him completely, I won’t, but I can’t let him continue like this. I don’t know what kind of damage he could be doing to himself.”

John looked carefully at Rodney, his eyes unreadable. “What do you say, McKay, would you rather take a nap, or try something to help you calm down?”

"I'm fine," he growled. "And besides, what does it matter what I think? You're just going to kill me in the end anyway. I guess the real question is how much entertainment do you want me to provide?"

Carson fought for a moment, then closed his eyes, and Rodney could see a small shudder run through him. His voice was quiet, but still held a note of anger. “I can feel what he’s feeling, at least physically. It’s possible that’s causing issues.” He took a deep breath, then let it out. “I really don’t want to give him anything else, but I don’t think we have much choice. I can try a lighter sedative that won’t completely knock him out if you want. But I don’t think either of us can think straight while he’s like this.”

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Caron shuddered again, but didn't look over at Rodney. "In my med kit, left pocket, there is a small box with a few pre-loaded syringes in it, Colonel. I'll open the cage door for you to give it to him. I honestly don't trust myself near him with a needle at the moment.”

Sheppard hesitated, then released Carson and went for the supplies. When he moved back into Rodney’s vision, he was holding a needle. “I’m really sorry about this, McKay. Beckett, open the cage.”

McKay snorted, but didn't fight as the colonel approached. "This must be rewarding for you, Sheppard. Giving me the final shot. Take your time and savor the moment," he said, voice pitched low and deep, but loud enough for the man to hear.

"This isn't going to kill you, it won't even knock you out. I took a moment to read the label Doc had on the box before I took it. Unless you have more fun drug interactions, this should just relax you a bit."

"Is that what you tell them all, just relax?" He said, watching vaguely as Sheppard slid the needle into his arm, depressing the plunger until the liquid was gone.

Sheppard reached out, squeezing his arm slightly. "Hang in there, McKay. We're going to get you out of here."

Rodney blinked, trying to clear his vision that had suddenly gotten fuzzy, soft, graying at the edges. He shook his head, trying to shake it off. "Are you even going to bother bringing my body back to Atlantis?" he asked finally, words slurring a little, but the anger was still there, throbbing under the surface.

"I'll be bringing your body back whole and alive, yes. And probably complaining he whole way." Sheppard gave him a small smile.

He shook his head again, but his eyes wouldn't focus. He could almost feel the drugs coursing through his body, burning as they rushed through his veins. His muscles slowly beginning to relax. He slumped back against the wall, his head lolling to the side.

Sheppard reached out, grabbing his face and looking at his eyes. "Shit, come on, McKay, don't do this to me. I know it hurts, I know you hate it here, I know these drugs are screwing with your head, and believe me we want to get you out. But like it or not you're the best guy for the job of breaking through these security protocols. Do you really want to leave that to Beckett?"

"Bite me," he whispered, shoving the words out.

"Kinky. I never knew you cared."

He tried to blink to clear his eyes, but they wouldn't clear, the world around him a fuzzy blur. "Screw you, Colonel," he finally managed to say, his heart pounding in his ears.

"I'm really flattered, McKay, but I prefer women. Not to mention, this probably isn't the best time to be discussing our sexual preferences."

Sheppard was suddenly shoved aside, and Carson was next to him, his hand wrapping around Rodney’s wrist in the familiar pulse-taking gesture. “Come on, Rodney, don’t do this to me. We’re light years away from my infirmary, don’t do this. Please.”

"Doc?"

"I'm here. I'm doing everything I can, but you're having a reaction to all the drugs in your system. I can't risk giving you anything else for a while, not even Tylenol at this point. Just try and focus on me, okay?" Rodney could feel someone rubbing small circles on his arm, giving him a physical point of reference.

"Feel…weird," he finally managed to say, the words low and breathy.

"Beckett," Sheppard said, worry in his voice.

"I know you do lad. The drug I just had the colonel give you is what’s making you feel fuzzy, but if you don’t fight it, it should help you get control again." He turned for a moment, addressing Sheppard. "There are several conflicting chemicals in his blood right now and it will just take time to let them work their way out. I’ve no idea if this is the last flare-up there will be, but I can tell you I won’t give him anything else, not even a painkiller at this point. This is unsafe enough as it is.”

"…killing me…"

"That's what we're trying to avoid here. I know it hurts, but if you try to relax, let go of some of your tension, you might be able to focus better. If you can sleep for a bit without any more drugs, that would be even better since it will give this stuff some time to work its way through your system."

McKay managed half of a nod, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Carson's hand on his arm, on the warmth, the weight, trying to ignore the burning, the otherworldliness, the anger. His mouth, though, seemed to have a mind of its own. "Knew you'd chicken out in the end," he whispered, the metal around his neck digging in as he slumped a little more, his muscles finally releasing and relaxing. "Make Sheppard do the dirty work."

The pressure didn't change, and Carson's voice stayed somewhat soothing. "I didn't want to hurt you. I think I've figured out how to block some of the emotional backwash coming from you, so I can pretty much think straight again. I didn't want to risk your health any more while I wasn't in control. I did'na realize at first that it was your anger I was feeling, not my own. Although you are a daft bugger sometimes."

"What does it matter?" he finally asked, the lightheaded feeling increasing. "Going to die anyway."

"No you aren't. You and Teyla both will get out of this. I promise."

"Can't promise what you can't deliver," he whispered.

"I've never failed you before, have I?"

"Doesn't…doesn't matter now, does it?" he asked, opening his eyes and staring forward, his unfocused gaze blurring everything in sight.

"It always matters. I'm not losing any patients today, Rodney, and that includes you."

"Might be…too late…for that," he said, eyes at half-mast. "They're here…you know. Watching. Waiting."

"It's never too late. Yes, I would prefer to have you in my infirmary where I have a few more options, but for now you're stabilizing, if not comfortable." Carson paused for a moment. "Who's watching?"

"Them. Can't you see them? Can't you feel them?"

The hand around his arm tightened briefly before resuming the small circles. "There's no one here but us, Rodney. You, me, John, and Teyla. Ronon went for help, but it will take him a while to get to the gate, then bring everyone back."

Rodney rolled his head toward the side, toward where Beckett sat, but his eyes refused to clear. "I'll be dead by then…they'll make sure of it."

***

Carson felt a stab of panic, until he realized Rodney was still conscious, if not really responding very well. The mental demands from the auto system that he leave the cage were starting to get painful. “Rodney, I need to leave the cage. Once we do, the restraints will loosen back up again. Is that okay?”

The man barely shrugged, but it seemed to be a response.

"Colonel, I don't think it will let me free Rodney a bit unless you're out too." With a final squeeze on Rodney's arm, he slowly started backing out.

Sheppard shook himself a little but backed out of the small cell, the bars descending once they were both clear. A few seconds later some of the tighter restraints began to release and McKay's body slowly sank toward the floor.

Carson didn't even try to get up. "I don't know what else to do for him. I can't give him anything else, I can't risk it. He got me in far enough that I can make sure neither of them are given anything else, but not far enough that I can make it release them."

"What the hell happened?"

He gave a short bark of laughter. "Which part?"

"Any of it," he said, hand waving toward the scientist who appeared to be sleeping—in a rather uncomfortable position. "Was he trying to get us to do something to him?"

"I don't think so. I think he was just... under the influence. Have you ever seen someone on a bad trip? That's pretty much what this is. Rodney isn't really a great patient when it comes to withdrawal, and that's pretty similar to what he's feeling right now."

"This was in no way normal for McKay," Sheppard said, shaking his head.

Carson slumped into the floor. "You weren't there when he came down from the enzyme."

"No, I wasn't," he said, raising an eyebrow. "It was hard for Teyla and Ronon and they had a lot more of it. I made sure Ford cut down McKay's dose. The last thing we needed were his hands shaking as he tried to re-wire the dart."

Carson didn't look up. "He never told you how he managed to get away while you were on the Hive?"

"He said he found the crystals Ford hid, got out when he could, fixed the DHD, and gated back. I was actually surprised there wasn't more in his final report since he did manage to get out on his own," he said shrugging.

"The part he left out was that he found the stockpile of enzyme. To overpower the guards and get out, to rescue his team, he injected himself with about ten times the amount Ford originally had. When he came through the gate, he was borderline manic, he was starting to go into cardiac arrest, and we almost lost him. We were forced to bring him down cold. I sat with him, and this is fairly similar to what happened that time too."

Sheppard paled. "You're kidding. He never mentioned…"

"When you managed to get out on your own, I know he felt like it had all been for nothing."

John was silent for a long moment, his eyes lingering on the body of his now-sleeping teammate. "What is it about him? He whines and complains at the top of his lungs when he has a hangnail or a splinter and when he gets really injured he barely says a word?"

"It's part of his defense mechanism I'd imagine. He's built a wall around himself with his arrogance and loud complaints. He wants us to think he doesn't care, but he does, deeply. The more serious the injury, though, the less in control of the situation he is, so he gets quiet and hopes it's overlooked."

Shaking his head, John rubbed his hand over his face before running it through his hair. "He's stable?"

Carson finally looked up. "For now. He's worn out, and there are still several compounds running around in his system, but he's okay for now."

"And you?"

"Me what?"

John scowled. "How are you doing with the device in your head?"

"Honestly, you don't really want to know." Carson put his head into his hands. "I'm tired, let's leave it at that, okay?"

"For now, we can," Sheppard said quietly. "Teyla seems to be holding up well. No freak-outs at least."

Carson looked up, catching the eye of the Athosian woman, and managing a smile for her. "Aye, she's quiet a bit calmer, so other than the initial drug, she has'na been given anything else. Nothing for that to interact with. Thank heaven for small blessings."

"Will Doctor McKay be all right?" she asked, craning a little to see into his cell, her own tether on her right wrist. "That was most…disturbing."

"He will, lass. Rodney gets... confrontational when drugs start messing with his head. He gets angry, and lashes out at whoever is handy. Once we get you both out of here, he'll recover fine." He ran one hand across his eyes. "And since I've no idea how long or even if he'll be able to help me any further, I'm going to have to figure out a way around the security myself I suppose."

"Would it not be better to wait for him to awaken? Would it not be faster?"

"He could do it faster than me, aye, and if he wakes up and is in his right mind, I'll gladly let him. But he was like this for a long time, going in and out of the worst of the withdrawal symptoms when he had the enzyme. I know this is different, but I have to plan for the worst, that he reacts the same way to this. I want you both out of here as soon as possible."

"What of the scientists Ronon is bringing?"

"They can probably help, yes. But we both know that other than Radek none of them really match Rodney, and he doesn't have the gene, so I don't want him down here. Having our top scientist out of action is bad enough, let's not add his second in command to the picture."

The colonel snorted, shaking his head. "I can't imagine going through that with Zelenka—although most of it I probably wouldn't understand."

As Sheppard talked, Beckett was already searching the database, looking for holes with another part of his brain. If he wasn't so tired, it would probably worry him that he was getting familiar enough with this base and its systems that he could interface this closely with it. He hit a collection of notes on experiments, felt himself pale as it drew his attention— God these people were sick!—then tuned back into the conversation. "Radek isn't as confrontational as McKay. He does have a wicked, and at times biting, sense of humor, though."

"You haven't seen him defend his possessions then," Sheppard commented, the corner of his mouth rising a little.

"Even I know better than to touch his chocolate stash. I don't even think Rodney will brave that one."

"Ah. Chocolate he'll let slide. It's the other stuff. Found his still on the last base inspection."

Carson looked up, mock horror in his eyes. "You did'na try to shut it down, did you? You'd have a riot on your hands if you did."

"Let's just say that we came to a certain…understanding about it."

"Dare I ask?"

"You're senior staff. I shouldn't say."

Carson shrugged. "As long as he still provides Scotch, I really don't care."

"Don't worry, doc, your deliveries aren't in question. We spoke a bit about him keeping it…under the radar a little better." Sheppard shook his head. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Carson blinked, taking a moment to realize the colonel had just changed topics. "Nae, not really. I'm searching for something I can use now, but its slow going. I keep getting distracted by the, shall we say glowing, reports of experiment results. I can't completely tune them out."

"And the ones Rodney mentioned, about typical?"

"It gets worse. He was only skimming."

"Lovely," he said, shaking his head. "So all we can do now is wait?"

"Well, you can give me something to think about other than the graphic examples of how my profession can be grossly misused. That is helping actually. I can glaze past them faster when I have something else to pull my conscious attention away." He hoped John wouldn't pick up on the edge of desperation. He really needed the man to keep talking. Not to mention, it kept the colonel occupied and distracted him from his own worrying.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest giving Carson a long look. "One ability I've managed to cultivate over the years is to tell when someone's not giving me the whole truth and right now, you're not."

He shook his head. "You don't really need the whole truth right now. I have'na lied to you."

"But it's preventing you from working, so yes, I need to know. What else should I expect from this house of horrors?"

"It's not preventing me from working. I have'na stopped working since I got plugged into this bloody thing, with the brief exception of when I had to fight to keep it from drugging Rodney a third time. I'm going to have nightmares for a while when we leave from what I'm sifting through, but what else is new?"

"Carson…I'm talking long-term here. Rodney obviously thinks otherwise or was that the paranoia talking?"

"Right now, I'd say it was the paranoia talking. His favorite topic last time I did this with him was the familiar rant of me trying to kill him and make sure he could never work again." He looked up, catching Sheppard's eye. "I won't be able to make any long-term determinations, though, until we all get back to Atlantis. I need to get him out of here."

"And right now, getting either of them out of here is out of the question."

"I'm doing the best I can," Carson said quietly, letting his head fall back into his hands. "Believe me, I know better than you what the stakes are at the moment."

"I know that," he sighed, his eyes tracking back to McKay. "The thing on his wrist is what gives him the automatic injections, right?"

"Aye. I have that system shut down at the moment. Or at least under my control. It...fought me before. But it didn't give him anything else. Why?"

"Well, if we were able to get that off of him, we wouldn't have to worry about unintentional injections."

Carson resisted the urge to snap. "If you've got any ideas on how to do that, I'd be happy to listen," he said instead.

"Can we cut it off?"

Without really thinking about it, he automatically sent part of his thoughts to ask. The haze of dark red pain that shot through him as a response was completely unexpected. Moaning, he curled into himself. "Nonono, don't do that."

"Carson?" Sheppard's hand was on his arm. "What the hell happened?"

He flinched away at the contact. "I don't think it liked that idea."

"It?"

Carson cracked an eye and tried scowling, but his headache had returned full-force. "Would you prefer 'He'? This place doesn't really strike me as female."

"It's sentient? Carson…" Sheppard growled in warning.

"Not precisely. It's more... I don't know. For all intents and purposes I'm part of the system at the moment, just another console. It's not really alive, but it has a basic awareness. It knows what I am. God my head hurts now."

A blister pack of pain killers appeared at his elbow. "How long do you think Rodney'll be out?"

He waved the pain killers away. "I'd like to let him sleep a little while if we can. The first sedative he was given is starting to wear off completely. If he can sleep until it does, that's one less drug to be worried about."

"Makes sense, but we also need his brain to help us get you more access to the system."

"Not at the expense of his health. I know this whole place is the bigger problem, but right now, the drug interactions are more pressing."

Sheppard sighed. "I know. It's just that the longer he's out of commission, the longer you're under the influence of whatever it is that's in this system, and there's more of a chance that something will go horribly wrong."

He lay silent for a moment, absently searching the database. He couldn't stop now. Then he came across something different. "Well now that's interesting."

"What?" The one word was laced with annoyance and frustration and worry.

Carson looked hard at John, knowing he wasn't going to like this, much less agree to it. "I found a loophole."

"Oh? Care to elaborate?" His expression was hard, boding no argument.

"Well, not so much a loophole, as how they controlled the facility. How the head of science interfaced with the system." Carson stalled.

"And?" Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"No, you aren't." He looked around, the status messages flashing through his mind. "The more access Rodney gave me, the more I... knew. Know. Not just about the experiments, but about everything." Sighing, he forced himself to make eye contact. "The head of the facility had access to the security overrides because in a very real sense, he was the facility. It was a total merge of mind and technology."

"Absolutely not."

"It's the only way to make it let them go. The head and heart of the facility was the only one who had that kind of control to override the automatic containment systems because he was the automatic system."

"That's not acceptable. We'll find another way once Rodney's awake."

Carson pushed himself up, the logistics of how to do what he wanted running through his head. "Rodney needs medical attention, not more pressure. If I can get him out, you can take him back to Atlantis."

"Beckett," Sheppard began, rising to his feet and crossing to stop Carson's movement. "We'll find another way. Don't defy me on this."

He shook his head. "And we've done such a good job finding a way around it up until now? This is the only way. Mind, I sincerely hope you get Rodney back on his feet so he can find a way to get me out of here without killing me, but in the meantime I'm afraid there's not much you can do to stop me."

Sheppard's eyes darkened, his hand drifting down to his sidearm. "There's always another way, Doc, you should know that by now." While his tone was light, the coldness in his eyes explained even more than words could. "I'd rather not have to go down that road, but you'd be compromising the mission and I can't have that."

Carson felt his eyes go wide in shock. "You would shoot me? Why? I'm not compromising anything, I'm getting them out so my doctors can make sure they're okay."

"We'll find another way and that's final."

Carson tried another tactic. "Why? I'm already in deep enough that, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure how to get out again. This is just one more step, and it's a small one at this point."

"Because I said no. End of story. End of discussion. And if you think I won't follow through, think again."

"At that point, it wouldn't matter. You could shoot me, but the deed would be done."

"And if we can't get you out and both Rodney and Teyla die because you're no longer in control…no. It's bad enough that you're compromised with that damn thing on the side of your head."

"Actually, it would be the opposite. Complete control. Of all the systems. Right now I can control most of it, if I focus and ignore the pain. This would just give me full access."

Sheppard scowled, his expression darkening. "You don't know that for sure and my decision hasn't changed. We'll wait and see. Understood?"

"I don't really need your permission," Carson hated pushing, but he needed a few more minutes to figure out exactly how to do it and keep some shred of himself protected. And he really didn't want to lie to the colonel.

"Actually," he said, his sidearm aimed at the main console, the safety off, "you do."

"No! Nononono!" Carson stepped in front of the gun, part of him a little frightened that he did it without hesitation. "If you do that, all of us are probably dead. Please."

"Then so be it. At least we'll be in control."

Carson pressed a hand to the side of his head, the ache getting worse. "Okay, I won't do anything yet! I'll wait to see if anyone else comes up with any ideas! Don't shoot me!" Me? What was happening to him? Something wasn't right.

Sheppard's eyes narrowed, but the gun dropped down by his side.

"I... Colonel, we really need to figure this out soon. I think I'm starting to lose it." Carson sat down where he was, still between Sheppard and the console.

"I know," he said, kneeling down, putting a hand on Beckett's leg.

"No, you don't understand. I'm having a harder time separating my thoughts from the database." He caught John's eye, trying to let the other man see some of his desperation. "Let me get them out. Once Rodney's got the drugs out of his system, he can figure out how to get me out."

"Hang in there, Doc," Sheppard said, his mouth a thin line. "Help from Atlantis should be here any minute now. We'll figure this out."

"What's there to figure out? We were trying to get me in far enough to override the security protocols. I can do that now, and when the others arrive they can help you bring them back." He closed his eyes, then opened them again immediately, whimpering slightly. "It's not just words anymore. I'm starting to get images, of the victims in various stages of testing. We really need to get them out of here."

"Rodney didn't get you that far in to override those protocols, Beckett. Don't screw around."

"I don't think he's the only one who was working on it. We already know the Ancient technology has a mental component, and it can most probably sense what I want. I think it may be, well, lonely. Like Atlantis was when we arrived. I think it's helping me work my way through the various levels of access." He winced as a particularly gruesome image flashed through his head.

"Can you back off any?" Sheppard asked. "And stay out of those files."

"No. And I can't." He looked up suddenly, his gaze drawn to the cages. "Rodney's about to wake up again."

"Damn," Sheppard muttered, turning toward the cell. "Is he going to be in his right mind this time?"

"I guess we'll see. I wish he would have slept a bit longer, but you know Rodney. I think he fights sleep just to irritate me. Any word from Ronon and the other teams?"

"I'm expecting them any minute now. It's been more than enough time." He paused, glancing back at Becket. "Do you need to check McKay over?"

"Depends on Rodney. I'm more or less keeping a constant watch on his vitals, so I'll know if anything really major happens. If he's still upset though, we're going to have to let him rant for a while. I'll make sure he isn't given anything else from the auto system, and I won't risk giving him any of my own medications right now either. Not unless I have to."

"Great," Sheppard said, rolling his eyes as McKay moved a little, the fingers of his left hand twitching.

Carson waved a hand towards the cage. "Go ahead and make first contact, Colonel. It's what you're good at, right?"

Sheppard scowled, but moved toward the cell, kneeling down just outside the shield. "Can you lower this?"

Carson glanced at the cage, and the shield dropped. "I'd open the door too, but then the restraints will pull him tight against the wall again. I'd rather not do that do him if I don't have to."

"I understand," he said, scooting closer and reaching through the bars, his hand resting on McKay's ankle.

Carson watched his friends, saw the worry on John's face, the strain of staying calm on Teyla's. They really needed to end this soon. He watched Rodney slowly wake, and prayed to any God who might be listening that the scientist would be in his right mind this time.

***

Rodney woke slowly, words and conversation rolling over him, buffeting his jumbled thoughts and memories.

He was tired, weary, and his ankle was warm.

He shifted a little, trying to ease some of the pain in his back, but quickly discovered it wasn't the brightest move when it pinched, making him moan.

The hand on his ankle tightened.

"Hey, Rodney." Sheppard's usual drawl had a note of worry in it.

Rodney rolled his head to the side, slowly opening his eyes. "What?" It was more breathy and less snippy than usual.

"You gave us a bit of a scare."

Drawing his eyebrows together, he tried to piece together his memories. He resorted to collecting some more data when he came up with mixed results. He remembered anger, intense rage really, but that couldn't be right. "What?"

"You accused Carson of trying to kill you, and me of arranging the whole thing." Sheppard's lips quirked slightly. "I was pretty sure you and the Doc were going to come to blows. Do you remember any of it?"

Rodney felt his face flush as some of what Sheppard said matched what was in his memories. "Maybe."

The hand around his ankle squeezed lightly. "Beckett said it was the result of all the drugs mixing in your system. Apparently that wasn't the first time you've had that type of reaction. When we get back to Atlantis, you and I are going to have a long talk about what is, and isn't, acceptable to omit from mission reports."

Rodney felt his eyes widen as he started shoving himself upright, his movements hampered by the cord around his right wrist. He scowled and tugged at it, his back protesting his every movement. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sheppard shook his head. "Later. Right now, we need to focus on getting you guys out of here. We need a new game plan. Beckett can get the facility to recognize him as the head of science, but that involves a few things I want to avoid at all costs. I'm hoping that when you were playing earlier, you might have seen something we can use."

"Use?" Rodney finally managed to get himself upright, his back resting against the rear wall.

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up more than usual. "Apparently the head of the facility had access to the security overrides because his brain was essentially part of the system. Beckett is getting more information, and has pretty good control over everything, but to make it let you go that way, he'd have to pretty much give himself up. He doesn't know if that can be reversed. I need to know if you saw anything that might provide an alternate means of releasing you. The other team should be here soon, so even if you aren't up to doing anything, if you can give them a place to start, that'd be great."

"I thought…" he began, raising his left hand to rub over his face, watching absently as it shook a little. He lowered it, clasping it with his right. "I was almost done." He spotted the tablet in the corner of the cell. "Let me finish what I started."

Carson moved into his field of vision, plopping down next to Sheppard. "You don't need to. I can get the rest of the way in any time I want to now. The colonel is—concerned—and I agreed to wait a bit longer before I did anything." He pulled a PowerBar out of his pocket and slid it across the floor to Rodney. "You're getting shaky. Eat something, and you'll feel a bit better."

He leaned forward and snagged the Bar, fingering the wrapper. "You can't join with the system."

He saw Sheppard shoot Carson a smug look, and the doctor frown a little at him. "I will if it's the only way to get you and the lass free. I know I can have you out of there in a few heartbeats that way."

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the bar in his hands. "It won't work. Just trust me, Carson. Let me finish what I started. Don't do anything that we'll all regret."

"I did'na give you that to play with it. Please just eat it. I'd rather not have to deal with hypoglycemic shock on top of everything else. And I agreed to wait a bit longer before doing anything else. But I won't wait too much longer, not if you or Teyla start to deteriorate any further."

"And if you give yourself over to the system there will be nothing to stop us from deteriorating," Rodney said, fire growing in his tone. "You just don't want to see it."

Carson shook his head. "I'll be in full control then, instead of just partial control. Once you get back to Atlantis, my team can stabilize you."

"That's what it tells you now. It needs you."

Something flickered across Carson's face, then was gone. "I agreed to wait a bit longer."

"Let Sheppard take a look at case 19865. Let's get a second opinion," McKay said, holding Carson's gaze. "He can access it from the main console."

A slim bead of sweat appeared on Carson's brow. "That's quite all right. Why don't we just work on getting you out."

"What are you talking about McKay?" Sheppard asked, his gaze guarded as he glanced between the two men.

"The experiment that seemed to tip the balance of the lab," McKay replied, eyes still focused on his friend. "I can work on the rest of the security measures while Sheppard looks at the case file. The researcher's notes were quite explicit if I recall."

"It's not really important." Carson shifted slightly, his eyes refusing to meet Rodney's.

The colonel stood suddenly, walking over to the main console. “How do I access it?”

"If the translation program is running, hit escape. It'll bring you back to the main menu. Just enter the case number and hit enter. It'll bring it up. If it's not fully translated it'll do that in a few minutes."

“Colonel, you really don’t need to do that. It isn’t important right now.” Carson looked like he was fighting with himself, half raised like he was going to get up and follow Sheppard.

“I think I do, Beckett. Stay where you are, or I will shoot this thing before you get halfway across the room.”

"Carson," Rodney asked, reaching for the tablet with his shaking hand. "How close are you?"

"Close? What do you mean?" His voice shook slightly, and he didn't take his eyes off of John.

Pulling the tablet into his lab, he tapped a few keys. "You know exactly what I mean. And I can find out if I need to."

The doctor slumped to the floor. "Honestly, Rodney? I don't really know where I end and it begins anymore."

Rodney's eyes widened. "We are so screwed."

Sudden cursing from across the room had them both looking up, and Sheppard stalked back over, every line of his body angry. He fixed a hard glare on Carson. "Just when the hell were you going to tell me about this?"

“I, ah, wasn’t.” Carson flushed.

Rodney's lips thinned. "I thought we needed a second opinion," he commented, his fingers continuing to tap on the tablet's screen. He only had to delete a few commands that his trembling fingers accidentally entered.

"Look, I know it's a risk, but I can control it! At the very least I can hold it long enough for you guys to get out of here." Carson crossed his arms and glared at them both.

"The head researcher was an Ancient and he couldn't. What makes you think you can?" Sheppard asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"I wouldn't need to hold it for long, just a few minutes, and you'd all be out."

"I said we'll find another way and we will. McKay, how are you doing?"

"I'm working."

Carson suddenly jerked a bit, his eyes going wide as he stared at Rodney. "What the bloody hell did you just do?"

He glanced up, meeting the doctor's eyes for a moment. "Nothing you wouldn't do if our roles were reversed."

"Stop! That... you can't do that!"

Rodney's eyes flashed, anger warming from within. "The only way I'm going to stop is if you make me." He turned back to the tablet, his fingers moving quickly as he tried to complete the block he'd put up, coded and triple-coded against tampering. A few more keys and then he could finish getting the authorization codes. At least Carson would be safe.

He felt a slight tightening in the restraints still around him, then they loosened again. "Oh God... Rodney, whatever you're doing you need to hurry, because I'm not sure how much longer I can fight it." His voice was strained.

"Working here," he said, words shoved through clenched teeth, grimacing as the one on his right hand tightened again. He felt the prick of the needle as something broke the skin. "Carson…"

"Stopstopstopstop. No, I won't let you..." Rodney could feel the needle retracting before it could go in fully, and Carson was sweating hard now.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, refusing to look up. He needed all of his concentration on the tablet and his shaking fingers. He was already spending too much time backing up to erase erroneous commands.

"It was trying to knock you out again." It sounded like Carson's teeth were clenched.

"Well, don't let it."

"I'm trying!"

"And the distractions are not helping," he said, trying not to sigh as he went to erase a single character and managed to delete an entire line.

Carson just whimpered.

“McKay…” Sheppard was looking back and forth between them.

"I'm trying to work here," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his left hand across his face. "You are not helping. And stop trying to push through."

"If we lose Beckett, I think it's a safe bet we lose you and Teyla too. Come on, McKay, you always say you work better under pressure."

"What do you think I'm doing, playing solitaire? It doesn't help that the sheep-hugger is trying to break my coding already."

"Trying...not...to..." Carson muttered.

Zelenka's voice was the last thing that Rodney thought he'd hear and managed to break the small amount of concentration he had.

"Colonel Sheppard, what do you need us to do?"

"Zelenka! What the hell are you doing here? I thought I gave specific orders that no one without the ATA comes here. Do not set one foot in this facility, do you hear me?" Sheppard was practically shouting into the radio.

"Nonononononono!" Rodney yelled, tapping frantically at the tablet.

"Rod...ney? Shut down...nonessential...database functions. Will free up...some of my...resources. Can't think...enough to fight all the attacks now." Carson had squeezed his eyes shut and sounded desperate.

"I can't. What the hell are you doing to my block?"

"No idea. Think its...trying to get ahead of you."

"Damn," he said, stopping to delete more wrong code. He clenched his hand together in a fist, trying to stop the shaking. "Sheppard, get Zelenka into the system. I don't care how, but he's going to have to figure a way around Caron's latest obsession."

Sheppard stared at him for a heartbeat. "Can he network to your laptop and jump to the system from there? I'm not allowing anyone else down here without the ATA."

Rodney shook his head. "Needs to be wired into the system." He glanced up at Sheppard, desperation in his eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can stay ahead of him."

"Too...late." Carson spasmed once, and suddenly Rodney's laptop was flung to the other side of the cage by a flicking tentacle. Sheppard managed to grab it, but the restraints had gone painfully tight around Rodney's wrists. Carson pushed himself up, his face oddly blank. "You have interfered enough."

"Carson…come on. I was just trying to help you. You don't have to do this." He pulled at the restraints, eyes widening as Beckett approached.

"You were attempting to thwart me. I do not know what you thought to accomplish, but I will not tolerate unruly specimens." Rodney realized Carson's voice no longer held any hint of a Scottish accent. Instead, there was something almost mechanical about his speech.

"Sheppard, you have the magic gene, do something," McKay hissed, trying not to let the worry he was feeling enter his voice.

Carson's eyes narrowed, and he turned to the colonel. "I will not harm you, sir, if you do not attempt to interfere. This one," he pointed to his own chest, "is mine now. You will leave, or you will join these mutants."

"And if I decided to interfere?" Sheppard asked, steel in his voice.

"The defiant one will die."

"You have to stop him," Rodney hissed, trying not to whimper as another tentacle wrapped around him, encircling his neck.

Carson's eyes flicked over to Teyla. "I have seen in this one's mind that you bargain. I will release the mutant and you can go. The defiant one stays here. I wish to study the manipulations he has been given." From everywhere the restraints held him Rodney felt tiny pricks.

"I won't—" Sheppard started, but McKay cut him off.

"Take the deal, Colonel," he hissed, feeling a trickle of blood run down his neck.

"This is the last time I will make this offer."

Seeing Sheppard's indecision, McKay fixed his eyes on the man, trying to beg him to get Teyla free and out of the system's hands. "Take it. He's not Beckett anymore. Get Zelenka hooked in. There's an access panel I saw—"

"Silence." Carson turned, and the restraint tightened around Rodney's neck briefly, before loosening again. There was a flash of something in Not-Carson's eyes, and he frowned. "Leave now."

Sheppard nodded, his eyes fixed on Beckett as he rose to his feet, the tablet in his hands. "And Teyla leaves with me?"

The shield around the Athosian's cage suddenly went down, the restraints around her disappearing into the walls. "Go."

He hesitated for a moment even as Teyla climbed unsteadily to her feet, joining him at his side. McKay locked eyes with the colonel, knowing they showed his fear, his worry, his concern and terror. "Go," his whispered. "Zelenka can—"

"Please go..." It was a whisper that held a hint of the familiar accent. Carson frowned again, then his eyes hardened. "If you do not leave now, you will not be permitted to leave."

Sheppard nodded, moving toward the door, his free hand wrapped around Teyla's waist to keep her upright. He paused at the door, turning to look at Beckett. "Would I be permitted to return to watch you work?"

"No."

"I could help you, if you let me," Sheppard said, eyes narrowing. "I'm not like these…mutants. I'm a full gene carrier just like you."

"You wish to harm me. Do not think I was not aware of your attempts to destroy me. Your affection for this one is all that stopped you."

Sheppard sighed, his mouth forming a thin line. "I admit that I acted…badly and can understand your feelings, but I'd hate for your…work to go…unwitnessed. Can someone else join you—as an observer? Evan Lorne would be more than willing to observe and…learn. Beckett knows him, trusts him."

Carson frowned for a moment, looking like he was thinking of something. "Perhaps. He is a doctor? One of this one's researchers?"

"He's assisted Beckett on many occasions."

"I will allow it then. If he attempts to interfere, however, the defiant one will suffer."

Sheppard nodded once, sharply, catching McKay's eye briefly before turning away. "He will not interfere."

Carson started to turn away, then stopped, his eyes hard. "If I sense any additional tampering with my systems like that of the defiant one, none of you will leave this place alive."

"You won't feel a thing," he said, turning to the door. "I'll send Lorne in a little while."

Carson waited until Sheppard and Teyla were gone, before turning back to Rodney. "You are a fascinating specimen."

"I'm glad you think that. I'm a genius too," McKay sputtered after a minute. "And do you have to keep me in here? Not like I can do much to hurt you and all…"

"Specimens belong in containment. This one has changed your DNA. He has given you the pure gene. This is not something I have seen before."

"I'm not contagious or anything," he growled. "And yes, he did. I needed it for my work. My very important work."

"You are worthless as anything except a specimen."

McKay's eyes widened and he tried to straighten, but the restraints held him firmly in place. "I've saved Atlantis more times than I can count. I think that's worth something."

"And that is supposed to mean something to me?"

"Atlantis. You know, the great city?"

Carson shrugged. "I am aware of what it is. My purpose is to contain and study the specimens. I was programmed to discover new genetic anomalies and enhancements, and probe to see what the limits of natural life are. Anything else is pointless."

"What do you mean, pointless? And what do you mean by 'limits of natural life'? What were the creators trying to do here?"

"My purpose is to further the research of how to manipulate the DNA of the useless ones to give them a purpose. You will require much study, as you already have primitive changes to your code. Perhaps the addition of something to make you obey commands, and you will make an acceptable scientific servant."

"I am not useless. I work fine right now, thank you very much," he said, narrowing his eyes. He would have crossed his arms over his chest if he could. "I'm plenty useful so you can just forget about your little tests and let me get back to my very important work on Atlantis."

"There are several compounds in your system that have caused issues. This is why I was unsure earlier when this one fought to prevent additional sedation. I see now. Your weak body cannot handle even simple compounds. We will wait until the last of them have faded, so as not to interfere with the data."

McKay bit off a comment, knowing that the harsh words were true. "If you intend on doing any kind of…research, I need to eat regularly or I'll die. Ask Beckett if you don't believe me."

Carson cocked his head for a moment, then sighed. "You are very frail. No wonder this one sought to improve you." There was another prick at his wrist. "I have taken the data on what nutrients are necessary to keep you alive. You will receive them at appropriate intervals."

"I prefer to eat," he grumbled, trying to ignore the feeling of fluids entering his body.

"What you prefer is of no concern to me."

"What about Beckett?" he asked as the thing in his friend's body turned to move away from the cell. "You've hijacked his body without his permission. Don't you even care about what he wants?"

"No. He is necessary for me to continue work. He is a researcher, as the others were. He fights me now, but in time he will fade."

"Does it ever occur to you and your stupid single-mindedness that he actually knows what he's doing and probably could do a better job without you pushing him?"

"Irrelevant. The researchers merely hamper my abilities. It runs much smoother when I am in control. That is why I was forced to drive all but the one I need to interact with the specimens from the facility. When my work is completed, I will allow them to return."

Rodney resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "But you've been out of touch for ten-thousand years. A lot has happened since then. If it weren't for us you'd still be sleeping in that nice little database of yours not knowing any better."

"Again, irrelevant. I powered down to await the return of a suitable researcher so I could continue the work. The arrival of this one allows me to do that. When he is no longer a viable host, I will again power down to await another."

"Trust me, if you kill him, there will be no others. Sheppard will make sure of that."

"The destruction of this facility means nothing. It is but one of many, and the data here is also backed-up up in the alternate facilities. When I assumed control of the genetics research, I linked all such facilities together to prevent loss of data."

"He's good. He'll find them all. A little matter of distance won't make any difference for him." McKay narrowed his eyes. "If I were you, I wouldn't push him."

Carson—or whatever has stolen his body—turned, looking at Rodney. "If you wish for me to simply destroy them now, I can. I released him and the mutant out of respect, but if you believe this to be an error, I can correct it."

"I'm sure they're already outside of your reach," he taunted. "Besides, you'd only do it because you're afraid of what he can do. I mean, look at how you've got me all trussed up. I couldn't hurt you on a good day and yet you keep me restrained and behind bars and a force field. What are you afraid of?"

"Fear is an emotion, which is frivolous. I follow protocol—all specimens are to be contained to prevent cross-contamination and erroneous results. It is basic scientific principle. As a useless one, it does not surprise me that you shun such precautions."

"I don't shun protocols that make sense," he huffed. "But in this instance, I know your real reasons."

"You are fascinating. I must admit, this is an application I had not previously considered. This one has some interesting ideas. However, he is irrational as to when and how he will apply these ideas. It is far better for one such as I to make the decisions. It was the same for the researchers."

"Why? Are you perfect? Wait!" He said, as an idea sparked. "You can't be perfect because you were programmed by a human like me."

"Incorrect. I was programmed by the creators. You are merely a useless one with an interesting application of genetics. I do not strive for perfection, I merely follow protocol and do not allow anything to interfere with the collection of data."

"Yes, the creators were my ancestors—biological ancestors." Okay. So he was stretching the truth a little, but it was mostly true. It wasn't his fault that his side of the family hadn't given him the gene naturally.

"Your ancestors are of no interest to me. I only recognize the genetic marker that denotes a creator. The absence of that denotes you as useless for anything except as a specimen. That you were given the genetic marker artificially is the only reason you are still alive. I wish to study you as you are before I perform additional testing."

"Where are you getting all of these...notions? You're a computer, not a real researcher. You should be following Carson's commands, not hijacking his body!"

"My personality is taken from all the researchers I have melded with. In the beginning I was merely content to follow orders. But as I learned from each of them, I realized I am much better equipped to run a facility such as this without interference. My programming makes it necessary to have a living researcher for me to work, but I no longer need one to do my thinking for me."

"What? Did you suck the personality out of all of your researchers? Is that how you ended up so screwed up?" McKay sputtered, releasing a half laugh of nervous energy.

"I absorbed the most dominant traits of each of my hosts in the beginning. Now I merely set them aside, as their personality and needs are not relevant."

"So you decided to model yourself using the most screwed up parts of the creators. Great, just great.," he said, rolling his eyes. It was the only thing he could do. "So what are you planning? See what it takes to make my brains pour out my ears or something else entirely?"

"Why waste a good specimen in such a manner? I can obtain inferior samples to continue the tests to which you refer. I believe I will attempt to continue the research already begun with you. I will develop a way to make useless ones good for something. The limited ability to operate technology is a start. We will go from there."

"So you plan to make me more effective in the use of the ATA gene?"

"Unnecessary. I wish to produce a servant for the creators, not a competitor. You could be of great assistance to them with the proper controls."

His eyes narrowed and the sharp word spit out before he could sensor himself, before he could change his tone. "Explain."

Carson shrugged. "You are defiant. I will curb that. You also talk too much. You do not need the ability to speak, only to listen. Previous experiments have shown that free will can be controlled and the subject will obey any command given with the proper sequencing."

McKay huffed. "Doubtful. Better men than you have tried."

"I am not a man."

His shoulders moved fractionally, as much as the restraints would allow. "Doesn't matter. Sentiment's the same."

Carson looked up as Major Lorne moved into the room. "Identify yourself."

"Evan Lorne," he replied. His eyes skimmed the area, resting briefly on McKay, his expression minutely hardening before he focused on Beckett.

"You are the one the warrior said was coming. You are this one's assistant?" He pointed to his own chest.

"I've helped him out in the past, yes," Lorne replied evenly.

"Lorne," McKay began, "I should warn you. This guy likes to chat. All he's been doing since—" His comment was cut off as the restraint around his neck tightened.

"Then you may stay. However, be warned that should you attempt to interfere, the defiant one will suffer. I do not wish to destroy him yet, but that will not stop me should it become necessary."

"I'm here to observe—or so I was told. And do you mean, McKay?" Lorne asked, lips twitching. "He's harmless."

"He is a specimen I wish to study, one of the useless ones who had some interesting genetic therapy applied to him. He has been used as a specimen in the past by this one. I do not understand your reluctance to allow him to be used thus again."

Lorne shrugged, moving slowly to one of the chairs and settling down. "He's useful to us the way he is. We don't want him…damaged."

McKay scowled and muttered, "Thanks, Major."

"His use as anything except an experiment was negated as soon as he entered this facility." Eyes narrowed on Lorne. "Major." He paused, the word hovering in the air. "This one led me to believe you are one of his assistants, but that is a title he associates with warriors."

"I protect and serve the civilians of Atlantis," Lorne said, holding Carson's gaze. "McKay and Beckett are two of those citizens."

"Unacceptable. I am impressed however that this one was able to lie to me. I only allowed you entry because he led me to believe you were a researcher under him. I will ensure he does not make that mistake again."

"Lorne's here as an observer and I'm guessing you believed what you wanted to believe," McKay commented, a smirk on his face.

The restraints around him buzzed for a few moments, emitting something akin to an electric shock throughout his body. Through the haze he could hear Beckett's voice.

"Your defiance is beginning to become tiresome."

When he finally was able to catch his breath, he glared toward the doctor, seeing that Lorne was half out of his chair. It took another moment before he could reply. "And your stupidity is inexcusable."

"You will stay in your seat or you will leave." Carson pointed to Lorne. He then turned to Rodney. "I have dealt with this one and his attempts to fight me. His will is stronger than I first anticipated. If you wish to be disciplined again, I will be happy to provide it."

Rodney narrowed his eyes, but kept his counsel for once. It wouldn't pay to piss off the computer too badly this early on. He had to give Sheppard and Zelenka time to work.

"McKay."

Sheppard's voice in his ear nearly scared him, but he tried not to react as the colonel continued to talk. "I know you can't respond, but I know you can hear me. Lorne is trying to keep his radio on so we know what's going on—don't antagonize him. We're working on things out here. Doctor Z found the panel. Hang tight. We'll get you out."

"I'm not going anywhere," Lorne said, settling back down in the chair, eyes flashing briefly before focusing on Beckett.

"Excellent. I would hate to have to damage the defiant one before I am finished with him."

"But why damage him? What would that prove?"

"It would prove nothing, which is why I do not wish to. However, I have watched how hard you worked to free him, and even now this one continues to try and fight for him. I merely wished to point out that for every action you take, I will follow with an appropriate reaction."

"Why are you so insistent that you have to experiment on him? And we're fighting for him because he's ours and we'd like him back—unharmed and unchanged. He…shouldn't have been here in the first place and we only now realized our own error. You…caught him before we were able to retrieve him ourselves."

"I'm not anyone's property," McKay growled.

Sheppard hissed in his ear. "Shut up, McKay. You're not helping."

"The fact that you brought him here, as well as a researcher to bring me fully online once more, says otherwise. I can only assume that you were not trusted with all the information, since I can see no other logical reason to bring a half-finished genetic experiment to this laboratory. I will finish what was started, as it should be."

"We didn't know what it was until we got here, you idiot. Just ask Beckett and he'd tell you as much," McKay responded, unable to help himself.

"It does not matter. In fact, the drugs that previously interfered with your systems have degraded enough to allow for further testing. I will need a baseline before I alter anything."

"Baseline?" Lorne asked, even as McKay felt the needles pierce his skin in several places—everywhere the restraints held him.

"Ow, that hurts," he groaned. "I don't have an unending supply of that stuff, you know."

"You will provide as much as necessary for the testing. Creatures such as yourself will replenish fluids within acceptable limits." Starting at the restraints at his feet, sudden pain started moving slowly up his body. "In addition to blood samples, I need to know your reflexes and response to pain. Some of the adjustments will affect those, and I wish to document the changes."

"I dislike it greatly," he hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring Sheppard's whispered encouragements in his ear. "Isn't that enough?"

By the time it hit his mid-section he couldn't stop the sob that escaped—or the scream a few seconds later.

***

Carson watched in horror as one of his best friends screamed. The system he was plugged into processed exactly what was happening to him. It just made it worse.

He tried again to fight the controls on him. The system almost absently sent a wave of pain straight through his mind, leaving him silently shrieking. When he was finally able to focus again, he heard the system once more using his voice.

“Excellent. The defiant one has wonderful reactions. He is apparently not as defective as I first thought. A shame he could not remain conscious for the entirety of the test, but I have what I need for now. When he awakens, we can begin again.”

"What the hell did you do?" Lorne's voice was hard, cold, but he'd held his seat.

 _Leave Rodney alone you bloody bastard! And Evan too!_ Carson knew the system could hear him, but it choose to ignore him, as it had been doing for a while now.

"I performed the first test. This is what you were here to observe. If you do not like it, you are free to leave. But remember what will happen should you attempt to interfere."

"I'm not interfering," Lorne said through gritted teeth. "I’m asking what you're doing. Two different things."

"I have already answered that question."

"Telling me you performed the first test did not answer my question. What test? What did you want to find out? What was its purpose? You _do_ have a purpose for all of this, don't you?" Evan was asking all of the right questions, but Carson didn't know if it would be enough.

“I have made my purpose clear. That you do not understand is a symptom of your own limited mind.”

Carson could feel the system getting irritated with Lorne, and desperately wished he could warn him. The last thing they needed was for someone else to get trapped by this thing. In the meantime, he felt a small disturbance too small for the system itself to register yet. Knowing Zelenka was here somewhere, he hoped it was him. He couldn’t do much, but he did silently try to conceal the tampering.

"How am I supposed to observe if I don't know what your final purpose is? If I don’t know what you're working toward I’m going to keep asking you all kinds of stupid questions. Would you rather I did that?"

A restraint came out of the wall near Lorne, wrapping briefly around his ankle and delivering a shock before retreating again. "You are here to observe, not learn. You said yourself you are not a researcher, so I have no interest in instructing or educating you. Foolish questions will only bring punishment."

"And what if I tell you that I can bring you others like him? What would I be then?" he finally replied, shaking off the shock.

"Why do I need more than one specimen? I can experiment on this one as far as long as I wish."

Carson sensed the system bringing several of the actual genetics sections of the database to the front. Preparing them for when Rodney woke up. Oh no. _Nononono. Leave him alone! Stop! Please!_ His only response was pain.

"You obviously don't care what happens to McKay but I can't imagine you'll be able to do everything you want with just one specimen." Lorne's voice barely broke through the continuous barrage of images and agony.

The increasingly annoyed system suddenly assaulted Carson with images of his friends as experiments. Rodney screaming soundlessly as his ability to produce noise was taken. Lorne writhing in pain as various random experiments were performed. Even Sheppard and Teyla, locked in cages and being slowly stripped of their sanity. He tried to ignore them and focus on the conversation.

“Should I require more, I will obtain them.”

"How?"

"Do you honestly think I will tell you that? If so, then you are more inferior that I originally believed."

"I'm curious. We could work together you know. We could always use better…workers."

One eyebrow went up. "You have fought for the defiant one's release for several hours now, and suddenly you wish for me to do the same to more of your people?"

"You weren't exactly forthcoming in your explanations. I'd rather you didn't injure him too badly or cause him too much pain, but if he and the others can be made better…" Lorne's voice trailed off as he looked levelly into Beckett's eyes.

"Perhaps. Once I have completed the tests, we can speak of it again."

"Okay," Lorne nodded once. "So, what were you planning now?"

"When he awakens, I will initiate the next phase."

"Which is?"

"He speaks too much. A good servant does not make that much noise."

"McKay knows a lot. Sharing information with us has saved our lives on many occasions," Lorne replied carefully.

"Why do you insist on pointing out irrelevant information?"

Lorne sighed. "I'm just saying that there are reasons for the way McKay acts that might not be in the database. Doesn't any good scientist research all aspects of the problem before just fiddling with it?"

"I am not fixing a problem. I am continuing the understanding of genetics and how we can alter useless ones for better uses. All else means nothing to me."

"If you're altering something, wouldn't that automatically mean that there was something wrong in the first place that needed fixing?"

"The useless one is not the only one who talks too much."

"Humor me." His voice was tight, even.

"Fine. After I paralyze his vocal cords, he will be altered so as to act only when ordered, and obey all commands given to him by a creator."

Lorne's face paled. "Paralyze his vocal cords?"

"I am tired of listening to him speak."

"Is that a permanent condition?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm a curious kind of guy."

"I have never attempted to reverse the changes. That is not part of the research."

"So once you paralyze his vocal cords…"

"I will curb his defiance. I will make him useful for something."

Carson saw the patterns, the drugs that would alter his friend being readied. And the system had told the truth. This was far more advanced than anything he had ever seen. If those drugs got into Rodney's system, he honestly didn't know if the effects would be permanent or not. He threw himself into the fight again, trying desperately to stop what he knew was coming. This time when the punishment came, it didn't just sting, it felt like every nerve was on fire. He felt himself slipping into oblivion, seeking refuge from the pain, and cutting himself off from what his body was doing. He only hoped Radek and Colonel Sheppard could stop this before he went much further. And then he didn't think for a while.

***

Rodney woke slowly, the whispered words of John Sheppard in his ear.

"Rodney, that thing said you were waking up so I'm hoping you can actually hear me," Sheppard said, even as McKay groaned, his senses flooding back to him.

"If you can," the colonel continued, "please be on your best behavior. That….thing has some plans for you that I know you're not going to like and right now Doctor Z is working as quickly as he dares. He doesn’t want to show his hand. We're almost in, but we need more time. Lorne is going to try to buy as much time as he can, but please, don't antagonize the system."

Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear his vision. Beckett and Lorne were still in the room—the major in the same seat, his face closed and serious. Carson was turned the other way, manipulating several things on the main console.

"Remember, McKay. Nice and polite. I know you have it in you somewhere," Sheppard said even as Lorne asked him how he was doing.

"Been better," Rodney replied, his voice quiet, his throat sore from the scream he knew had ripped through it before. "How long?"

Carson turned, looking him over. "You have been unconscious for several minutes. We will wait for you to fully awaken. Then we will begin the next phase."

"Goody," McKay muttered under his breath. Apparently it wasn't as quiet as he'd thought since it reached the pickup in Lorne's radio.

"McKay!" Sheppard hissed.

"I am pleased to see you are accepting your status. This will make it easier."

"I'm not accepting it. I've merely resigned myself to the fact that there doesn't seem like there's much I can do about it right now," he said, hearing Sheppard sigh in his ear. What did the man expect, for him to lay here and take it without saying anything?

"I find it hard to believe that no one has ever attempted to silence you before this. You speak far too much for an inferior life form."

McKay raised his chin as far as he could, his eyes narrowing. "I'm a genius and what I have to say is important. Most people have the good sense to know that."

"I do not care what you have to say. Once I have eliminated your ability to cause irritation through noise, we will work on your obedience."

"What!" His eyes widened as he realized what the system was telling him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"McKay, calm down," Sheppard said in his ear, the tone sharp, but Rodney wasn't listening.

"You can't just go and do something like that."

"Perhaps if you had not been so insistent on voicing unwanted opinions, I would not feel the need to begin there. However, the decision has been made."

"They're not unwanted—" he began, only to have Carson—the system—whatever it was cut him off again.

"Enough." He felt a prick in his wrist, followed by the warm sensation of drugs moving through his body.

"What?" he said, shaking his head. All of a sudden his head felt full, thick. Not right.

"In a moment, the heaviness you are experiencing will pass. It is possible your throat will hurt a bit, as the muscles are paralyzed."

"You're…" he began, but whatever else he was about to say was taken away, his lips moving, but no sound came out of his mouth. He tried again. And again. Each time the panic in his chest increased.

_Nononononono. This cannot be happening._

It was an almost cruel smile that curved the lips of his friend's face. "Excellent."

Gasping for breath, Rodney's eyes found Lorne but discovered the man had glanced away, the line of his jaw tight. Sheppard was whispering in his ear.

"We'll figure out how to fix this, I promise. Just calm down. We don't want him to give you anything to knock you out. Calm down."

McKay wanted to scream, to rail at the colonel at Lorne and Beckett, but he couldn't.

The now familiar pricks of blood being drawn suddenly assaulted him. "Once I have analyzed the new data, we can proceed to the next phase."

McKay shook his head frantically, his eyes pleading where his voice couldn't.

"Your defiance to the creator's desire is unsettling. A previous experiment isolated the chemical triggers for obedience, and I have tied that to the creator's gene. When you are given an order, you will obey."

"So is this a genetic restructuring or a chemical one?" Lorne asked, his voice out of place. Rodney's head whipped to the side, staring wide-eyed at the Major, disbelief running through his body. How could he ask question like that? They were talking about things this…computer was going to do to his body, his brain.

"It is both. All chemicals are tied to specific genetic markers, and are programmed to react in a specific way. I am merely re-writing how those chemicals react, in order to get the desired response."

"How? Through RNA alteration, a retro-virus, or nanites?"

McKay stared at Lorne, his eyes wide. What the hell did it matter?

"I have Anne out here taking notes and going through the database we managed to download," Sheppard said, answering McKay's question like he was able to read his mind. "We need to know exactly what he's doing so we can un-do it."

"My methods are far more advanced than your limited brain can understand."

"I am a direct descendant of the creators. I'm willing to…expand my sphere of knowledge," Lorne said. "Scan me if you want, if you don't believe me."

"I already know you possess the creator's gene. I would not have allowed you here if you did not."

"And because of that, I have the right to know what you are doing to my property."

McKay blinked, the heaviness in his head finally gone, leaving him feeling empty. He couldn't even hum. Nothing.

"Ah, it is finished. The test was quite successful."

"Oh?" Lorne asked, lifting an eyebrow. "And you never did answer my question regarding the application of the chemical alterations."

"You are persistent, I will give you that. An interest in knowledge is a good thing. To silence him, I merely used a chemical to paralyze the muscles in his throat, rendering him incapable of making any noise. For the next phase, I intend to use a compound that will alter the way his brain responds to commands when given by a creator. I will enhance his ability to detect the genetic marker of the creators, although it will be passive, and limited to knowing who he should obey."

Hearing it discussed so clinically, like he wasn't even there, was mortifying. He wanted to shout to scream about the unfairness, about the loss of his free will and his ability to do his job…to live like a normal human and not some genetically-altered, mindless slave.

"Will these chemicals need to be administered on a regular basis in order to continue their effectiveness, or will his brain adapt to release them naturally or are those the alterations you are actually performing now?"

"The change is permanent and will not require further testing once complete. I am not altering the chemicals so much as I am altering how he is hard-wired to respond to the release of certain chemicals. Once I am satisfied that he will obey all orders given, I will proceed to the final phase, to prevent him from acting at all unless a specific order is given."

McKay's eyes widened further, his head shaking violently—as much as it was allowed by the restraints. Nononononononononono.

Carson approached the cell, pausing just outside the shield to look down at him, lips turned into a smug smile.

"You are a most responsive specimen. I have not had one take to the testing so easily in quite some time." Another prick at his wrist, and the warmth started all over again.

It spread quickly, heating up and warming more and more as it progressed until every inch of his body felt like it was on fire from the inside. He threw back his head, feeling it hit the rear wall. All of his muscles tensed and his mouth dropped open in a silent scream that went on and on and on.

***

Carson floated in a sea of darkness. On some level, he was aware that there was something bad happening, but whenever the thought came close to the surface, he shunned away, seeking shelter in oblivion.

Then something he couldn’t ignore. Pain again, but not his own. Whose?

Carson suddenly felt himself snap back into awareness, just in time to see Rodney—his head tossed back in a soundless scream, as the system recorded what was happening, registering the extreme pain his friend was in.

No. Oh, God no. How much had he missed?

Before he could do more than take it all in, Ronon was suddenly walking into the room, and he could feel the system’s confusion.

“Why are you here? Who are you?”

"Been needing to do this for a while," he said, raising his weapon and firing off a quick burst that hit Beckett in the middle of his chest.

Pain, this time physical instead of just mental, hit him. He felt the system absorb some of it, throwing it back in to some kind of buffer, preventing it from stunning him completely, but it did make the system pause enough to give Carson a chance to take over for a moment. "Shoot me again. Bloody hell, you have to stop me!"

Ronon didn't hesitate, letting another shot hit the doctor.

He went down to his knees, but again, the buffer took enough of the energy from the blast and siphoned it away, the lights in the room blinking at the power surge. Carson could feel the system starting to move to take control again. "It's pulling off the power. Please. Ronon. I'm losing control again...."

The Satedan, stepped closer, triggering yet another blast, even as Lorne rose to his feet. Sheppard appeared a moment later at the door, his face a hard mask. 

"Fight it, Beckett!"

"Trying...." The pain was excruciating. He felt himself starting to slip away, the system moving back in. "Stop me...."

"Ronon, once more," Sheppard ordered and the warrior listened, another blast hitting Beckett. Zelenka's triumphant shout echoed down the corridor a moment later.

"It's done. The system is isolated."

Suddenly, the feeling of pressure, of someone trying to take control of his body again was gone. Carson reached up, ripping the piece off his head, hearing a scream and vaguely realizing it was his as he finally gave in to the darkness again.

***

Rodney McKay flashed in and out of consciousness, faces and places molding and melding into a mismatched kaleidoscope of memories.

When he finally woke up for good, the beeping of various equipment told him exactly where he was—the Atlantis infirmary, although for the life of him he couldn't figure out how or why he was here.

Rolling his head to the side, Rodney pried open his eyes, blinking a few times before his vision finally cleared. He'd been changed into white infirmary scrubs and sported neat, white bandages around his wrists. The blanket, pulled up to his chest, hid the rest of him from view, but he was sore—muscle sore—all over.

Spotting Anne working a few beds down, her back to him, he opened his mouth to call out to her.

But nothing came out.

Snapping his mouth shut, he tried to clear his throat, but found it unobstructed. He tried again with the same result, panic beginning to rise as memories resurfaced.

Genetic research.

Paralyzed vocal cords.

_This can't be happening. Not to me. Nononononono._

"Doctor McKay?" Anne looked up and, seeing he was awake, she moved to his bedside. "Please don't panic, sir. Take a few deep breaths, and then I'll get Colonel Sheppard in to talk to you."

_Panic! Of course I'm going to panic!_

He wanted to say—to scream—but he couldn't. But even as Anne scurried away he found himself taking several deep breaths, the regular in and out of his breath helping to hold back some of the panic he was feeling.

"Hey, Rodney, calm down." Sheppard strode through the door, his face creased with concern.

McKay glanced up meeting the colonel's eyes with wide eyes of his own. He shoved himself upright and forced the panic down, clutching his hands together in his lap.

The colonel handed him a laptop he had carried in. "Until we figure out how to reverse the whole vocal cord thing, I figure we can communicate via the written word. You type almost as fast as you talk anyway."

He scowled at the man, but quickly opened a blank text document, his fingers flying across the keys.

_What the hell happened and why didn't you fix me yet?_

"We've only been back in Atlantis for about ten hours. Anne was taking notes of everything Lorne could get out of that thing while we were there, but we couldn't do anything until both you and Beckett woke up. He's still out cold." Sheppard sat down as he talked, and waved to a nearby bed, where Rodney could see Beckett was still unconscious.

_Still? What happened? How did you get us out? God, this is annoying._

"I know. That's the other reason I brought you the laptop. Once you're up to it, between what you got of the database before the whole fiasco started, and what Zelenka managed to get when he was trying to cut the system off long enough for us to get you out, we're hoping you can pinpoint what you were given, and how to reverse it. As to how we got you out, Ronon shot Beckett with the stunner a few times, which gave Zelenka the window he needed to upload his virus, and Beckett the window he needed to break free of that thing's control."

Rodney raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

_That only works in the movies and the last one I saw like that ended badly._

"Hey, don't knock it. It worked, didn't it?"

_Fine. What did you have in mind?_

"Well, once the nurses give you the all-clear, you can start going through the database, and let us know what you find. You were able to get a pretty good feel for it before the damn thing overpowered Beckett." Sheppard paused for a moment, looking uncomfortable. "Ah, I did want to know, though, did that thing manage to give you its 'second phase' crap? Or are we just dealing with the voice thing? In all the confusion, no one was sure."

_As soon as someone resembling a doctor gets in here to do their job, I'll get right on it. And second phase? Things blur a little toward the end._

McKay paused, glancing up at Sheppard for a moment before typing again. _And you talking to me through it helped. Thanks._

John grinned at him. "I figured you needed something to focus on other than HAL's taunting. I'll get a doctor for you when I leave, but the second phase was supposed to, ah, make you obey any orders given to you by someone with an ATA."

Rodney felt his eyes widen. _You're kidding._

"I hope so. We're all hoping it didn't get the chance to give you that. Let's test it though. Put your left hand over your head."

Even though he wanted to type a scathing remark about Sheppard's childish behavior, he found himself raising his left hand over his head in response. He sighed, closing his eyes. This was so not good.

"Uh, I suppose that means it did give it to you." Sheppard sighed. After a moment, he blushed a little. "You can put your arm down now, sorry."

Scowling, Rodney obeyed, feeling his face flush as he kept his head down as he typed.

_This is SO not funny. This needs to get fixed now._

"I know, okay. At least we managed to stop it before it got to its final phase. That's something, right?"

_Can we just do something, now?_

Sheppard nodded. "I'll go get Doctor Biro to give you a quick exam. While she's doing that, I'll let Zelenka know you're up and send him to meet you. The two of you can work faster together. Once Beckett's awake, we'll see how much he managed to retain from his stint as a computer terminal." He paused for a moment, looking Rodney in the eye. "Also, I know this is probably the last thing you want to have to worry about, but a guard with the ATA gene might not be a bad idea. I don't think anyone will try anything—we've all been through so much screening—but..." John shrugged.

_You actually think someone would do something?_

"Honestly, no. Everyone here has been cleared, and Beckett has a file of all the ATAs on base, so it's not like they could get away with it. But you never know."

_So you're just trying to scare me instead?_

"I'm just trying to cover all the bases, make sure we don't miss anything. If that scares you into a little caution, I'm not opposed to it though."

_I don't need a babysitter. I'll be fine._

"All right. We'll hold that in reserve in case anyone harasses you. If they do, report it to me, and we'll assign someone to you then."

Rodney scowled at him, but nodded, stifling a yawn. He moved to type something else, but Sheppard had grabbed the laptop, moving it out of his reach.

"Don't overdo it. Once Biro's done with you, she'll give it back." John rose, resting one hand on Rodney's arm briefly. "We will fix this."

This time he didn't need the laptop to communicate his fear and desperation. He knew his expression said it all.

***

He was aware of the beeping first. It was a comforting noise, telling him everything was going to be okay. Slowly, he let himself drift to consciousness, surprised that as he did, his body hurt more and more.

He groaned quietly, still not opening his eyes. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but waking up in your own infirmary in pain is never a good thing.

Then something hit him in the forehead. Grunting, he batted it away, only to have something else hit him in the chest. With a louder groan, he pried his eyes open.

The first thing he saw was Rodney McKay in a bed across from him, a tongue depressor in his hand and poised for flight. “Wha?”

Rodney shrugged, offering a tired smile.

Carson frowned, trying to remember what had happened. Then, with a sudden rush, he remembered. He could feel all the blood drain from his face, and the beeping, which had been steady and soothing a moment ago, suddenly starting screaming frantically.

"Doctor Beckett," called a familiar voice—Anne Matthews—as a hand latched onto his arm. "Please calm down. You're fine. You're in Atlantis."

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving Rodney. "Oh, my God. Rodney. I'm sorry. I tried to stop it, I really did..."

McKay's face fell, his own pale complexion whitening several shades. He turned his head away, a single shaking hand—wrist wrapped in a bandage—rubbing his temple.

Carson let Anne push him back into the bed. It was strange, one part of his mind was clinically noting that he was showing all the signs of going into shock, while another part of him was simply trying to comprehend what had happened. He heard Doctor Biro come in and talk in low tones to Rodney, then felt a hand on his other arm. He looked up, catching her eye. "Tell me you've run the tests and its reversible."

Her expression was neutral, her words carefully chosen. "Doctor McKay regained consciousness less than an hour before you did and he has not had the chance to go through the database yet."

"You ran blood tests though, right? How much of his DNA was changed, and how much is just chemical alterations?" Carson took several deep breaths, tried to force down the panic and guilt and focus on the problem.

"We're still waiting on most of the tests to come back from the labs," she replied, her voice quiet, calm. "We'll have a much better picture in a few hours."

He nodded, wincing slightly as he suddenly realized his head was aching. "How soon can you clear me, lass? I'd like to get to work on the database Radek brought back as well." He glanced over at a frowning Rodney, who was waving his arms to catch their attention, then forcefully pointing to himself. Carson blinked, then realized what he was asking. "And how soon can you clear Rodney?"

"I'll be able to release him once we get his tests back and have the chance to review them," she said. "And once we can get rid of that migraine, I'll let you get some work done. Besides, I need you to look at his test results—as a second opinion."

For a brief moment, Carson considered going around his own rule about no laptops in the infirmary if you were a patient who hadn't been cleared to leave. He knew if he did, though, he would never be able to enforce the rule on any of the prickly scientists who were brought in on a regular basis. Sighing, he wiped a hand across his face. "Aye, lass, I understand. Just work as quickly as you can. The sooner we can reverse what was done to Rodney, the better."

"We're doing the best we can," Biro said, her voice sincere. "Are you up for visitors?"

He wanted to say no, but he had a feeling he knew who the visitors would be. He could let himself have a breakdown once everything was back to normal. That would be soon enough. He watched Rodney, and could see how close the man was to holding off a panic attack. Sitting up a little, he nodded carefully. "Aye. Send them in."

Biro nodded and walked quietly across the room, speaking a few words to McKay before moving to the door. Teyla stepped in a moment later, her confident strides taking her to Beckett's side.

"It is good to see you well, Doctor Beckett," she said, offering a sincere smile.

"Teyla, it's nice to see you up lass. Any lingering effects?"

"No. I am well. Doctor Biro performed a very thorough examination when we returned to Atlantis and she was confident that there were no lasting effects from the encounter in the laboratory."

"Good to know. As soon as I'm up and about, if you don't mind, I'd like to look you over as well. That blasted computer didn't see you as the bigger threat, so it did'na do much more than sedate you, but I'll feel better if I run a few tests."

Teyla smiled knowingly, inclining her head toward him. "If you wish, you may do any test you require. I do not believe you will find anything, however."

"Thanks for humoring me. I promise I won't resort to anything too invasive, just a blood and DNA test."

"I am fine, but if it will help to set your own mind at ease I would gladly do whatever you need. We were greatly concerned about you and Doctor McKay," she said, turning to offer the scientist a smile before focusing on Carson once again. "We know you did not mean us any harm and only wish for your health to return quickly."

He felt his expression falter a bit at that, but then firmly put his 'doctor face' back on. "Aye, we'll figure out how to undo this. I promise. Before you know it, Rodney will be right as rain again."

"I trust you will find the cure. I am simply grateful that you are yourself once again." She held his gaze for a long moment before stepping back.

"A-aye. It...was'na a pleasant experience. Go keep Rodney company. I see Doctor Biro gave him a laptop. That should make communicating with anyone nearby a bit easier."

"Yes. He has already had a discussion with Colonel Sheppard. Although, I believe he is currently waiting for Doctor Zelenka so they can work on the database."

"That does'na surprise me. Go distract him then, if you don't mind. I can only imagine how horrid it must be for a man as vocal as Rodney to lose the ability to talk to people."

She looked at him for several seconds, her eyes seeming to look through him, before nodding once. She moved across the room to McKay's beside and spoke quietly to him. He responded, his hands waving emphatically. She caught them, holding them tight, speaking quickly and quietly.

McKay listened, stilling under her hands, nodding when she finished. She patted his arm and moved to the door, glancing over her shoulder to look at Beckett once again. And with a near-silence swish of fabric she was out the door.

Rodney had followed her with his eyes, his head rolled to the side on the infirmary pillow, his body slumped into the mattress. He yawned slowly, mouth open wide and he stretched a little before turning his eyes to Carson, red highlighting his cheeks.

"Rodney? How...how are you feeling? Other than the obvious problem I mean?" Carson watched his friend, and wished he could go over to him. He couldn't set a bad example by disobeying his own rules though.

McKay shrugged, his hand see-sawing in an in-between gesture. His mouth opened, as if he wanted to add something else, but quickly snapped shut, a frown forming in its place.

"I will find a way to reverse this. I promise."

McKay's body deflated a little and it looked as if he managed to move closer to the mattress.

Carson sighed, laying back against his own pillows, and closing his eyes against his headache. He had to fix this. He had to find a way.

***

Rodney drifted in and out of sleep, twitching at every sudden sound around him, his eyes flying open to search the area until he settled down once again.

The squeak of a nearby chair forced his eyes open again, this time to find Radek Zelenka setting up shop. He'd already dragged a chair next to the bed and was pulling one of the tables over to perch a laptop on. The other laptop sat serenely on the other bed. A pad and pen was alongside.

"You are ready to work, yes? Kavanuagh will start to get cocky if your loud mouth is not around to put him in his place." The Czech offered him a small smile.

McKay shifted on the bed, using the remote to lift the head of the bed a little more so he could see better—all the while scowling at the scientist.

"While you were slacking off, I downloaded much of database, but it is still mostly in Ancient. Translation program is working too slowly. So I take part already in English, and you start on Ancient, yes?"

Mouth twitching, he finally nodded, taking the laptop Zelenka offered, his fingers automatically calling up the appropriate information.

Zelenka seemed to feel the need to talk, to fill in the spaces Rodney himself usually filled. "You are lucky I do not have ATA. Colonel Sheppard warned all people with gene not to give you anything like orders, or he will punish them severely. If I had gene, I would have been tempted. Make you stand on head."

McKay scowled, yanking the pad and pen into his lap, scrawling on the top page. _Screw you._

"Yes, yes, and make you get me coffee. Perhaps while skipping."

McKay gritted his teeth together. This was exactly what he didn't need to hear right now. The pen nearly ripped through the paper. _Either shut up and work or leave me alone._

Radek sighed but went back to work. "Too bad evil computer did not give you better sense of humor."

McKay yanked the call button at his side, pressing it several times in rapid succession, his right hand already scribbling the beginnings of another note on the pad.

Zelenka looked up at him, raising one eyebrow. "Now what has gotten you worked up?"

McKay glared once at Zelenka before turning back to the call button, pressing it a few more times for good measure.

"While impressive, evil glare of doom does not tell me much. Did you find something?"

McKay shook his head negatively, but didn't elaborate, his scribbling continuing unabated, his body turned just enough so Zelenka couldn't read it.

"Rodney?" Radek's voice lost the light, teasing tone he had been using, and had an edge of worry now.

Rodney pressed the call button again, finally spotting Anne approaching at a rapid pace, her face lined with worry.

"Doctor McKay? What's wrong?"

He pressed the pad into her hands and closed the lid of his laptop, moving it to the end of the bed before he turned his attention to the various leads and lines attaching him to the infirmary.

_I've been here for all of a few hours and I've been poked and prodded—without resolution, I might add—and now I'm forced to work with people who think this is one big joke. Just because I can't vocalize my displeasure doesn't mean I have to sit here and take it. I have work to do since none of you obviously care if this is actually reversed or not and I can't do it here. I need to be released to my quarters now because I have no intention of staying here being continually berated and insulted. I am leaving whether Biro lets me or not._

Her eyes went up, and she wordlessly handed the pad to Radek, who sucked in a breath. "Rodney... I, I am sorry. I was out of line. I am just very worried." His shoulders slumped a bit.

McKay shook his head as he finished untangling everything, swinging his feet off the side of the bed, making Anne step back lest she get bowled over in his haste to leave.

"Doctor McKay! Please, you can't leave without the proper release. If you'll just hold on a moment, I'll get Doctor Biro for you. Doctor Zelenka, if you could come with me? I'm sorry, but your presence is obviously upsetting him."

Radek got up slowly, his face creased with concern and exhaustion. “Yes, I will come. I…I will work on English part of database in labs.”

McKay ripped the top sheet from the pad, letting it fall to the floor as he wrote his reply, handing it to Anne as his bare feet hit the cold floor.

_I've been waiting, patiently I might add. I'm finishing waiting. You can find me in my quarters if you're looking._

She reached out, placing one hand on his chest. "Please don't make me order you to stay, Doctor McKay. As a nurse, it's my duty to issue the order to protect my patient, but I know how you have to obey right now. I don't want to do that to you. Please. Let me get Doctor Biro. I'll explain the situation. I'm sure she'll be willing to listen."

 _You wouldn't_ , he scribbled below the last comment, a scowl headed her way to emphasize his remark. He turned, picking up the laptop, cradling it in his arms as he slowly made his way toward the door.

"Stop."

He tried to put one foot in front of the other, but found that the limb didn't want to respond, his entire body stiffening at the single word Anne had uttered. He flushed red, embarrassed by the situation and angry at himself and her. This was beyond unfair. This was downright humiliating.

She walked around to stand in front of him. "Please, go back to your bed, and let me go get Doctor Biro. I don't want to force you, but I have to do what I think is best for you."

He shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes, holding onto the laptop more tightly.

She sighed. "I'm very sorry, I didn't want to have to do this. Get back into bed, Doctor McKay, and wait until Doctor Biro clears you. Feel free to work until she gets here."

McKay's head shot up, his eyes wide, his chest tightening even as his body responded, obeying her commands and padding back to the bed and sliding back into it—all under the watchful eyes of her, Zelenka, and a now awake Carson.

He dropped the laptop on the bedside table before he leaned back into the pillows, crossing his arms over his chest.

Radek opened his mouth a few times, looking like he wanted to say something. Finally, slumping into himself, he hugged his own laptop to him. “I will find a way to fix you, Rodney. I will not rest until I do.” Then he turned and left.

“Rodney?” Carson waited until Anne had left.

He scowled, turning his head and closing his eyes. Maybe Beckett would get the hint.

He heard a rustling, then the side of his bed dipped. Carson didn't say anything, just sat there beside him, one hand resting on his arm.

He tried to shrug off the hand, but it tightened down.

"I'm sorry," he finally said quietly.

Rodney turned his head and opened his eyes, his mouth open to comment, to really rip into the man beside him, but he remembered a split second later, his mouth closing with an audible click.

Carson sat there, holding the discarded page in his hands, his eyes drifting between the sheet and McKay.

"They do care, you know. Radek is wearing himself to a fine line, and I know Lindsey is on the verge of ordering him sedated to force him to sleep. He has'na closed his eyes since you got back. And Anne had tears in her eyes when she ordered you back to bed. I know this is'na easy for you, but you aren't alone. No one here plans to rest until we get things straightened out." Carson didn't look up as he spoke, and seemed to be focused on swinging his legs back and forth like a two year old.

McKay pulled his arms closer to his body, the pad and pen he'd had before lost somewhere in the room. Not that it mattered. Not that any of it mattered.

He felt Carson lean over, and after a moment, he pushed the laptop against his stomach. "Tell me what you want me to do. As soon as I'm able I plan to go to work on a way to reverse what was done to you. I'll ask Lindsay to go ahead and release you when she gets here. But I don't know what else I can do to help."

McKay scowled, but opened a blank document.

_Besides finding a time machine and making sure this never happened? There's nothing you can do._

With an unreadable expression, Carson just nodded, slipping off the bed. He hesitated for a moment, then made his way back over to his own bed. He got himself settled just before Doctor Biro walked in. "Doctor McKay? Anne told me what happened. How are you?"

McKay held her gaze for a long moment before clearing what he'd typed to Carson and beginning a new message for Biro.

_I feel fine. I want to leave so I can go somewhere and actually get some work done._

She nodded. "I'll agree to that on one condition. We don't know yet exactly what you were given or if you'll have any additional reactions. I'm pretty sure you're out of danger for that, but I don't want to take any chances. I'll release you to your quarters if you agree to stay there, and to allow someone from the infirmary to come in and check on you every two hours for the next twenty-four."

_You have got to be kidding me! I've been here, symptom-free for what, sixteen hours already? What is the next twenty-four going to show—apart from your own incompetence?_

"If something were to happen, you would have no way of letting us know. I'm willing to release you, since you seem to be fine at the moment, but this is something we know nothing about. Believe it or not Doctor McKay, there are quite a few people who are very worried about you, and if I released you with no one to keep an eye on you, and something happened, I would be lucky not to be tossed through the Gate on my rear at the earliest opportunity."

_I'll agree to every four._

"Three."

_I have every intention of trying to sleep during the next day and that is not conducive to rest. Four._

"You can leave the door unlocked, and I'll instruct the nurses to be quiet and not wake you if you're asleep. Three."

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Carson across the room.

"Don't look at me, she won't release me for duty either."

He scowled, holding up four fingers on his right hand before gesturing to Biro.

She lightly smacked his hand. "Doctor Beckett doesn't have any say as to your care right now, so you can stop trying to get him to change my mind."

He shook his head, his fingers typing once again. _If they come any more frequently than every four hours they will find the room locked down._

"And you know the locks will allow medical overrides. If the door is locked, we'll have to assume it's because something is wrong with you, preventing you from opening it." She gave him a soft smile. "I'm not trying to be difficult, believe me. I'm just concerned."

_Then stop treating me like an invalid. I know how I feel and I know how to take care of myself. I might not be able to speak, but I sure as hell know how to get someone's attention if I need something. I lost my voice, not a limb or my intelligence._

She looked at him for a long time. "All right, every four hours. Just promise me that if you feel anything odd or off at all, you'll come find me. Okay?"

_Yes, fine. Can I go now?_

"Yes. Colonel Sheppard brought by some clean clothes from your quarters earlier. They're in the changing room. And don't forget to eat, either!"

He scowled, but paused long enough to type a response before he headed to the changing area. _I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much._

Her voice followed him around the corner. "And that's why someone has to drag you out of the lab at all hours, and why we have you here visiting in the early stages of hypoglycemic shock at least once a month, eh?"

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the smug expression on her face. Raising a single finger, he offered it in reply before continuing to the changing room. Sometimes hand gestures were all he needed to get his point across.

***

 

Carson sat up, stretching to try and work some of the kinks out of his back. Doctor Biro had finally released him not long after Rodney had weaseled his way out, and he had retreated to his lab to start going over the results of the samples they had taken. He was vaguely aware that the late-night shift was now on duty, but there was too much to do to think about stopping.

He scowled at the microscope, wishing he could make it show him what he wanted to see. On a first glance, he was fairly sure he could find a way to reverse the paralysis of Rodney’s voice box, given enough time, but the other alterations were a tad bit more difficult.

He heard a shuffle behind him, but didn’t turn around. Several of the nurses had tried to get him to stop for the night already, but he had waved them off. Hopefully, whoever it was would leave him alone to work, if he just ignored their presence.

"This is not productive work," Teyla said, her voice level, calm, a statement of fact.

He turned, his eyebrows going up a bit, the flutter of panic starting in his stomach that something had happened to pull one of Sheppard's team into the infirmary at this time of night. "Teyla, lass, I wasn't expecting you. What can I do for you? Is everything okay? I didn't ask you to come in for more tests, did I? I know I was a bit paranoid, but everything came back clean."

"No, Carson, I am fine, everyone is well. Doctor McKay has been working in his quarters most of the day and recently retired for the night. Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Zelenka, and Doctor Weir have been reading the database files. Doctor Weir's knowledge of the Ancestor's language is proving beneficial, however the process is slow." She paused, an amused expression fluttering across her face before she smiled gently. "Ronon has been...instructing the Marines for most of the day." She paused again. "I believe everyone has since retired for the night and the last time I checked, Ronon was standing guard outside Doctor McKay's door—thankfully without Rodney's knowledge." She paused, raising an eyebrow. "You, however, are not well."

"What do you mean? Are you sure everything is okay?"

"I am certain."

"Good. When you see them again, tell them I'm making some progress working through the samples we took from Rodney. I'm isolating the chemical and DNA changes that were made so any solutions we come up with can target just those, which will minimize the risk of causing further damage."

"It is late, Doctor Beckett. There will be time tomorrow for you to provide your report."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, leaning back into his seat a bit. "Aye, I suppose Elizabeth will want a full report of everything we've got so far. When I wrap up with this, I'll put something together."

"Tomorrow."

"Aye, I'll report in tomorrow. Was there anything else I can do for you lass?"

She regarded him carefully before speaking. "Yes, you can accompany me." She moved a few feet away, waiting for him to join her.

He shook his head, letting some of his confusion show, although he didn't get up. "If it's not an emergency and you need a doctor, I can get the on-duty physician for you. I have quite a bit of work I need to get done otherwise, not to be rude."

"Please, Carson," she said. "This will not take long."

With a small sigh, he rose, a bit surprised at how wobbly he felt. "All right, where are we going?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, lass. Although I must admit you have me a bit curious."

A light smile appeared on her lips as she steadied him, moving gracefully as they walked out the door, Teyla steering them through the mostly deserted halls of Atlantis. They walked in companionable silence slowing as they reached the deserted mess hall. She led him to one of the closer tables, settling him into a chair.

Carson watched her, sitting where he was told, and offering a tired but hopefully reassuring smile. "What would you like me to do?"

"Nothing apart from what you are doing," she said already moving toward the table where coffee and hot water—along with several non-perishable snacks—were kept. She worked efficiently, calmly filling two mugs with water and his favorite Athosian tea before returning with the beverages, setting them on the table. Another trip later and she had a plate of several small cakes perched between them on the table as she sat down across him.

He laughed lightly, picking up the tea and sipping at it. "Thought I needed a bit of a break, eh?"

She smiled again the warmth reaching her eyes, but she shook her head.

He had found that with Teyla, she would get to things in her own time. So he decided to enjoy his tea, nibble on a few of the snacks, and wait to see what she would do. He did need the break anyway.

She quietly sipped her tea watching him with careful eyes.

After a few minutes of the friendly silence, Carson found his mind starting to wander. The DNA sequence Rodney had been given was something he hadn't seen before, in combination with a chemical agent. It was a fascinating delivery system, and if he could just figure out how it worked, they had a chance of reversing it.

A light touch against his hand jerked him back to the present, Teyla's concerned face peering at him. "Are you sure you are well?"

"Aye, I'm just tired, and there's still a lot of work to be done." He drained the last of his tea. "I had better head back up to the lab."

She shook her head, her hand still grasping his. "I still require your attention."

He let a bit of his frustration show. "Teyla, lass, I'd be happy to help, if you'll just tell me what you need."

She looked at him for a long moment before replying. "It is what you need, Carson. Please, come with me."

"What I need? Teyla, I need to get back to the lab to figure out how to reverse what was done to Rodney. And now that I've been cleared, I'm back on the duty roster, so I have a shift to cover in a few hours. I'd like to get a bit more work done before then."

"Do you not trust me?"

He slumped a bit. When had the wily woman learned to play him so well? "You know I do. There is just so much work, and honestly, my head is still aching a bit. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit abrupt."

"You are fine, but I know of a way in which you may feel better. Come with me." She led him once again through the hallways, this time toward the senior officer's quarters. As they approached, Carson spotted Ronon leaning against the wall, the Satedan standing straight as they moved closer. He met Teyla's eyes and offered a brief nod before turning and heading down the hall away from them. They paused just outside Rodney's door, Carson turning a confused expression on Teyla.

"What...?"

"I've instructed the nurse who was to perform this check that you would be doing so in her stead. Please be quiet. He has not been sleeping long," she said, waving her hand in front of the door panel, the doors opening to the darkened interior.

Carson blinked. He backed away from the door slowly, keeping his voice quiet. "Teyla... What exactly are we doing here? My staff has been checking up on him, and from all accounts he has'na been very happy about it. If he's sleeping now, why did you bring me?"

"Doctor Biro insisted on regular checks and if you do not perform this one, Doctor Biro will be forced to have him report to the infirmary. Please, Carson."

"Aye, I was there. If he's sleeping, then all he needs is a quick look to make sure he's still breathing and..." He paused, noting her firm expression. He wasn't getting out of this. He reversed course and headed for the open door. "All right, I'll pop in and look him over."

"Good," she said, following him into the room, standing just inside the open door. He moved quietly toward the bed, spotting the physicist curled up tightly in the blankets, nearly cocooned within them, a tuft of brown hair sticking out on top.

Carson silently shook his head, then went to Rodney's side, keeping his movements slow and quiet. He gently pulled the bedding back, watching for the tell-tale rise and fall of his breathing. One of the scientist's hands was curled against his chest, in easy reach, so he slipped a finger under one wrist, checking his pulse. As smoothly as he could, he withdrew, pulling the blanket back up to its former location.

Rodney shifted a little, huffing into the pillow, but settled down after a moment. He felt Teyla at his elbow, her hand directing him to the one comfortable chair in the room—the one item McKay had insisted on having—pushing him to sit in it, an extra blanket settling on his lap.

Carson shot her a confused look, and shook his head, setting his hands on the side of the chair and pushing himself up. "Lass—" he whispered.

"If you wake him I will be most displeased," she hissed, her hand on his shoulder holding him in place.

"I need to get back to the labs, back to work." He kept his voice low, barely a breath, whispered near her ear.

"You will stay here and you will rest. Am I understood?" Her voice was firm.

He shook his head again. "I've too much to do."

"Does he look unwell? Doctor McKay has spent as much time working today as you and yet he agrees to rest." Her eyes narrowed. "Do not push me on this matter."

He felt his patience beginning to fade. He was tired—he'd give her that—but this whole situation was his fault and he needed to fix it. He didn't even think he could sleep right now. However, one thing he had learned from stubborn siblings was sometimes there was more than one way around someone. He sat back, crossing his arms and glaring a bit. He'd just leave when she walked away.

She nodded once before moving to the open door, waving her hand to close it as she settled on the floor, pulling her legs beneath her as she sat leaning against the wall.

Crap. He hadn't considered that she would stay too. With an internal sigh, he reached out and snagged Rodney's laptop, which was sitting on a nearby table. He flipped it open and used the network to log in to his own machine. He could work as well here as he could there he supposed, if it would make Teyla happy.

He was still surprised when the laptop was lifted out of his hands and placed on the desk, her scowl deep. "That is not resting."

"Teyla, I don't think I could sleep now if you drugged me. At least let me get something useful done. Sequencing Wraith DNA in my head doesn't really serve any purpose at the moment."

She hissed at him as McKay moved, his sleep becoming restless. "If you insist on refusing to rest and take care of yourself—actions which will put your friend's life in danger—then leave," she finally whispered, the words strong as she pulled the blanket from his lap. "You are not the man I thought I knew."

He winced, closing his eyes at the pain that caused. He wanted to be angry, wanted to shout that he was doing everything he could to fix this. He wanted to cry because, really, he couldn't win this time. He knew working himself to death served no purpose, but he couldn't just sit back and allow himself the luxury of rest when a patient needed him. “Please…”

"It is your choice, Doctor Beckett," she whispered as McKay moved once again, turning on his side so he was now facing Carson. "He will not know if you stay or if you go. Nor will I. The decision is yours and yours alone." She moved quickly and quietly to the door, exiting into the hallway, the doors closing with a sigh behind her.

He stared at the door for a moment, hating her a little for putting him in this position. He really didn't want to let himself think too much about what had happened. He knew himself well enough to know that as soon as he started thinking, he was going to have a minor melt-down, and there wasn't time for that right now. Then he looked back over at Rodney, and with a sigh slumped into the chair. Closing his eyes, he let the strands of DNA start running through his head.

***

Rodney McKay woke up suddenly, his normally silent room reverberating with snores—that were not his own. Opening his eyes, he glanced at the bedside clock, noting the early hour, and rolled onto his back, his gaze settling on the sleeping form of one Carson Beckett.

Eyebrows drawn together, he untangled himself from the sheets and blankets, padding over to check on his friend. His light touch on Carson's forehead, though, was more than enough to wake the slumbering man.

"What? Rodney?" The doctor sat up, sleep fading into concern. "Everything all right?"

Rodney scowled, nodding. _You okay?_ He mouthed the question, hoping Carson understood. He had no idea where his pad and pen were.

Beckett sat up, rolling his head a bit and rubbing his neck. "Teyla decided I should rest, and parked me here to do it. Sorry if I woke you. I did'na mean to fall asleep."

Rodney shrugged, offering a tired smile. He held up his hand, a finger rose indicating that he wanted Carson to wait. When he saw the other man's understanding of the gesture he moved to his desk, digging through the mess to find the pad and pen, and mentally raising the lights in the room. He'd managed to sleep through two night checks, he realized as he scribbled on the pad. He had been more tired than he'd thought.

_Teyla forced me to the mess hall, plied me with hot chocolate—which I have to find out where she found it—and then tucked me into bed. If you give me five minutes to jump in the shower we can grab breakfast._

Carson read the note, then handed the pad back. "Aye, it was tea she gave me. I'll be here when you get out, don't rush on my account."

 _Bed might be comfier then_ , he wrote, tossing the pad and pen into Carson's lap before stepping into the bathroom.

It was probably closer to fifteen minutes by the time McKay finished, allowing the hot water to wake him up fully. He needed to go down to the labs today, check in on the scientists who were probably running amuck while he was gone.

When he moved back into his room, he found Beckett stretched out on top of his bed, the sheets and blankets straightened under him. McKay smirked, catching Carson's sleepy eye.

"Can't help myself. A messy bed is just begging to be made."

Rodney shook his head, grabbing his pen and pad from the chair where Beckett had placed them and gesturing to the door, waiting as Carson climbed to his feet.

"Teyla mentioned something about a staff meeting today. Know what time we're expected?" Carson followed him out the door.

Rodney shook his head, throwing his friend a perplexed look. He tapped his headset, gesturing to Carson.

Carson blinked a few times, then looked down at his feet. "Sorry. Elizabeth, this is Carson. I'm with Rodney, and we're both wonderin' what time you wanted us to report in on our progress."

"If you can drag yourselves away from your work, I'd like to have a mid-morning meeting. Would an hour work?" Elizabeth answered, but Rodney shook his head, putting up two fingers.

Carson nodded before tapping his headset again. "Can you give us two? Neither of us has eaten, and I know I need some time to put a report together."

Rodney made several gestures, catching Carson's attention, pantomiming a blood draw and tapping his watch.

Carson frowned at him. "Hang on, Elizabeth. Rodney, I haven't the slightest clue what you're telling me."

Rodney huffed, stopping in the middle of the hallway to scribble on the pad, shoving it in Carson's hands. _I have to stop in the infirmary for my next check otherwise Biro will haul me back in there._

"Oh. Right. I forgot I had'na taken you back as a patient yet. Aye, Lindsay will have both our hides if I don't give you time for that." He tapped his headset again. "Elizabeth, make that three hours. Rodney needs to do another check in the infirmary as well."

Rodney shook his head, tapping Carson's shoulder, two fingers raised.

Carson put his head in his hands, a small groan escaping him. "If you wanted two hours, why did you interrupt me?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, shaking his head, moving a few paces down the hallway even as Weir's voice came over the radio. "Three hours it is then, gentlemen," she replied. "I'll see you both in the conference room at 0930."

"Aye, sounds good. See you then." Carson hurried to catch up.

Rodney rolled his eyes again as Beckett stepped up beside him, grabbing the pad from his friend's hand as they started toward the mess again.

"0930 then. Good. I can get a bit more research done before that."

Rodney led them into the mess hall, making a beeline to the food, pulling a tray from the pile. A minute later he was moving with a plateful of steaming food toward the coffee, grabbing two mugs, filling both with milk, sugar, and coffee, sipping on one even as he walked toward the table.

Carson followed him, grabbing only a cup of tea and some sort of pastry that vaguely resembled a croissant. "Do you really need that much coffee? You know it is'na good for you."

Rodney threw him a look that said "of course I do, you are stupid to even suggest such a thing" as he dug into his not-eggs and not-bacon, chasing the mouthful down with coffee.

"You know, it's a wonder you've managed to survive with all the crap you put in your body. As a physician, I'm convinced you're some sort of bloody medical miracle."

He tried the wide-eyed innocent look, but seeing Carson's eyes roll upward, he offered a shrug, dropping his fork to write. _Why mess with perfection?_

He waited until Carson had taken a sip of his tea, before turning the pad to him, and sat back to enjoy the view as the man spluttered and tried to avoid spitting out his drink. "Ach man, you are evil!"

This time Rodney didn't even bother with the innocent look, choosing to laugh silently instead, a smirk on his face. He turned back to his breakfast, shoveling the food in, washing each mouthful down with a sip of coffee. He moved onto the second cup even before half of his food was gone.

Grinning, Carson looked up and waved at someone. "The colonel just walked in. He's grabbing his own breakfast and heading over."

Rodney nodded, taking another mouthful of coffee. He paused, peering into the cup, reaching in with his finger to snag something. Wiping the strange particle on his napkin he swirled around the liquid again, scowling into the mug. He dropped the half-full mug back on the table and rose to his feet, heading back to the coffee pot.

"Honestly, you really should cut back on that some," Carson said as soon as he sat back down.

"How many is he up to?" Sheppard asked, peering at McKay. "I see three here, but I’m sure he had some in his quarters before he even got here."

"Believe it or not, only the two-and-a-half, unless he snuck a cup in the shower." Carson smiled.

"I wouldn't put it past him," John commented, receiving a glare from Rodney in return. "And you were in his quarters this morning?"

Carson scowled a little at that. "Aye. Teyla decided I needed to stop working last night, and pulled me out of the lab to park me by Rodney's bed. Admittedly I probably would have worked through the night if she hadn't, but the sneaky lass played the guilt card on me."

John chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, she's sneaky," he said.

Rodney nodded, pointing to his chest with his fork.

"Aye, she did the same to Rodney. I guess she thought it would be easier to mother us if we were both in the same place. Speaking of which," he set down his cup, "if you gentlemen don't mind, I need to head back to the lab now. I've a few tests I want to finish up, and I need to put a report together before the meeting."

Rodney grabbed his arm, shaking his head. Pointing to Carson's unfinished breakfast, he looked at John before gesturing for the man to watch as Carson finished his food. He shoved his own chair back and rose to his feet, pantomiming a blood draw and pointing at himself. This was annoying.

Carson frowned. "Aye, I'm sure Lindsay is going to be looking for you. I'll walk with you down to the infirmary."

Rodney shook his head, glaring at John, hoping he'd understand. When he got a blank look from the colonel, he sighed silently, leaning down to write on the pad once again.

_Make sure Carson finishes his breakfast and don't let him leave until he does. He didn't look good this morning. I'll meet you both at 0930 in the briefing room._

John's eyebrows went up, prompting Carson to grab to pad. "Hey now, it's my job to be keeping an eye on your health, not the other way around!"

_And who takes care of yours, huh? Cause from this end of things it doesn't look like you're doing a swell job of it. Sheppard, sit on him if you have to. I need to go before I'm late and Biro sends out her minions._

Carson actually looked a bit shocked. John grinned and nodded. "I'll make sure he eats. Go on, we can't have the death doctor hunting you down. People would talk."

Rodney nodded, ripping off the top sheets and crumpling them into the remnants of his own breakfast tray before depositing it in the area for dirty dishes. Grabbing his half-full mug of coffee, he headed out the door, waving absently over his shoulder as he stepped into the hall.

The trip to the infirmary wouldn't take long, he knew, but he wanted to swing by the labs first. There were a few projects going on that he needed to check on.

A transporter ride and several corridors later and Rodney was turning into the main lab. One other scientist littered the room, but Radek was nowhere to be found. He settled in at his work station, pulling up the reports on the projects he needed to oversee, writing several scathing notes on all of them before sending them back to be re-done. He was working with idiots.

Getting up, he headed to some of the smaller rooms adjacent to the main lab, poking his head in a few only to find them empty. What the hell was going on? He spotted one of the newer scientists in the rear room and aimed toward him, vaguely realizing that he'd left his pad and pen next to his computer. There had to be something to write on back here he could use.

He strode up to the lone scientist—whose name he had not bothered to remember as of yet—tapping him on the shoulder. Once he had his attention Rodney gestured to the empty room, a questioning look on his face.

The scientist followed the wide arc of his hand with his eyes before turning to Rodney. "We're decided that flex time works a lot better for most of us," he answered cooly.

Rodney swore his blood pressure instantly rose at the other man's haughty tone. He scowled, glancing around for a piece of paper. It was far more rewarding to yell at stupid people than scrawl notes at them, but he'd make due.

A hand on his arm made him pause as the other man stepped up close to him. "And you're not going to do anything about it."

The tone of command was unmistakable and Rodney found himself nodding. Damn. This guy had the gene. He began to back out, his eyes wide.

"Stop."

Rodney halted in place, his muscles stiffening up as the scientist paced around him, a gleam of something growing in his eyes, something cold and calculating, malicious even.

"This has so many possibilities," he said, finally coming to a stop in front of McKay. "The real decision comes down to what exactly I'd like to do." He tapped a finger on his lips before nodding to himself. "Come with me. Do not attempt to interact with anyone else. You are to ignore everyone except me. Do you understand?"

McKay found himself nodding even as he cringed inside, his body betraying him every step of the way. The scientist led him out one of the back doors of the lab heading into the deeper sections of Atlantis, descending several floors until they were in the sub-basement—or at least that's what Rodney referred to it as. They encountered no one on the way, not that it would do him any good as he concentrated on the man walking on his left side, just in front of him.

It certainly hadn't taken long for someone to try something. What really worried him, though, was that this was one of his men, one of his scientists. Someone he'd picked, chosen personally. People that had been vetted by the SGC. Checked and double-checked. How had they missed this one?

The scientist walked toward the waste tanks and something in the back of Rodney's mind clicked. It was time for their routine maintenance—a disgusting job he usually left for someone who had been getting on his nerves. It was only about an hour's work, but no one liked doing it.

They paused outside the door leading into the waste tanks area. "Strip off all of your clothes, but keep your underwear on. Give me your clothes and your headset."

Rodney wanted to scream and yell, but he found himself removing his clothing quickly, efficiently, handing it to the man standing before him until he was standing there shivering in nothing except his boxers.

"Good. Now, listen very carefully. You need to follow these instructions exactly. You are going to clean the waste tanks dressed exactly as you are and when you're done, you are to go into the small access room just off the main tank. Close the door behind you and sit on the floor. You are not to interact with anyone or do anything else until Doctor Beckett arrives. Once he's here, you've completed your task and you're free to do as you please. Oh, and Doctor, as soon as you begin to work, you will remember nothing of who gave you these orders or any other details about this entire situation—from the time you stepped into the main science lab. You will only remember that you had to have this task completed. Am I understood?"

Rodney nodded, misery rising up. This was past embarrassing. Not to mention there could be horrible germs or something even worse in there. What would he be walking in—barefooted and all?

"Good. Now, I think it's time for you to get to work. Move it, McKay, you don't have all day. Work quickly and efficiently and make sure you do the job right. I'd hate to have to send you back down here again. Oh," he said pausing, adding the rest as an afterthought. "And there is one more thing. Subconsciously, I want you to remember this one tidbit: My orders override all others—when given conflicting commands, you will always default to mine."

Moving automatically, McKay waved his hand over the door panel, letting himself into the area, trying not to flinch at the smell. The doors sighed shut behind him and he started to work, even as he cringed and pleaded with his body to stop.

Picking up the tools he needed to complete the job, he paused, confusion settling across his features before it faded. He knew he'd been somewhere else just before this, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten down here. But, he had a job to do, and he was going to do it right.

***

Carson made his way into the conference room, dropping into a chair. From the time he had left the mess, called to the infirmary to help deal with the results of a training accident—no deaths, thank God, and only a few broken bones when all was said and done—he had been running.

Looking up as John and Elizabeth walked in, he offered them a small smile and a half wave in greeting, then went back to trying to shuffle his notes into some sort of hurried order. Radek came skidding in a moment later, setting his laptop down. Carson was surprised Rodney wasn’t with him, he would have thought they would come together from the labs. “Is Rodney on his way?”

"Rodney I have not seen," Radek commented, his tone grumpy. "He sends emails berating staff and then is not around for fallout."

Carson frowned at that. "As far as I knew, he was going to get a check-up from Lindsay, then head down to the labs. You're sure he wasn't there?"

"I did not see him," Radek said, glancing up from his laptop. "I assumed he was terrorizing us from his quarters like yesterday."

"Nae, he came to breakfast with myself and the colonel."

"And then went back to his quarters. I ate lunch with him yesterday and that is what he did," Radek said. "Did not expect today to be different."

"That was'na the impression I got. But I suppose it would make sense, I know he's frustrated at not being able to communicate as he usually does."

"Maybe he forgot about the meeting," John said, tapping his radio. "Sheppard to Lorne. Can you swing by McKay's quarters and remind him about the meeting he's supposed to be at now? Thanks."

Carson shook his head. “I’d think this is one meeting he would'na forget, since he has a rather personal interest in what we’ve found.”

"You know how he is when he gets involved in a project," Sheppard said, shrugging as he leaned back in his chair, the two front legs lifting off the ground. "Either that or he's already on his way. He could have stopped to get coffee."

"I swear, every time I have to draw blood I half expect coffee to come out instead. It's a wonder he manages to function at all sometimes."

"He's accustomed to it," John commented. "Although, I am amazed that he can function without it as well as he does. On missions we don't always get the luxury of having a fire or the local coffee equivalent. Oh, he complains, but manages to survive."

"He is like bear, stores up the excess to hold him during lean times." Radek grinned.

John and Elizabeth chuckled lightly before the chirp of Sheppard's radio drew his attention. Tapping it on, he listened, his eyebrows drawing together as his chair thumped back to the floor. "Yeah…thanks, Major." Tapping his radio off, he glanced around the room. "Well, Rodney's not in his room. Lorne's going to take a walk here, stopping at the mess just in case McKay headed that way."

"I'll see if Lindsay knows where he was headed after his exam this morning. That might help narrow it down too." He tapped his radio on, calling for his own second in command. "Beckett to Biro. Lindsay, where was Rodney headed after his exam with you this morning? He has'na shown up for the meeting, and we're trying to track him down."

“Doctor McKay never came, Carson. I was about to go looking for him when our visitors arrived this morning. Teyla stopped by early this morning and told me you were keeping an eye on him, so I assumed you had done the check-up as well.”

“Nae, last I saw him he was headed your way. All right, thanks, Lindsay. Beckett out.” He looked around at the rest of the senior staff. “Rodney never made it to the infirmary for his check.”

"I don't like the sound of this, gentlemen," Weir said, glancing around the table even as the door to the briefing room opened to reveal Major Lorne.

Carson looked behind him, hoping to see the familiar sight of an irritated Rodney, and felt his stomach flip when he didn't. "Evan? Did you find him lad?"

"No," he said stepping in. "The captain on KP hasn't seen him either, so he hasn't been back to the mess since he was there earlier this morning."

"We need to find him, as soon as possible, Colonel. It could just be that he got involved in something, but I know Lindsay was worried the changes to his system could cause unforeseen complications. And without the ability to call for help if he does run into trouble..." Carson was already rising from his seat, trying to think of all the places Rodney might have gone.

"We need to do this systematically, Carson," Weir cut in. "We can't have people running all over. Let's try a citywide announcement first. If we don't get any reply—an email or something—we'll move on from there. Someone may have seen him."

"If you wish, I can go through security logs. We do not yet have cameras in all hallways, and there is much footage, but perhaps I can narrow down the search for him, if I can identify where he was after he left the mess this morning." Radek tossed a questioning look at Elizabeth.

"That's a good idea," she said, rising to her feet as she strode into the control room. They followed her out, Radek sliding into the chair at one of the consoles, his fingers typing on the laptop. "I need citywide," she said to the technician, pausing next to the communications console.

"Yes, ma'am. Anytime you're ready."

She offered a tight smile as she nodded, taking a breath. "This is Doctor Weir. Because of a…unique situation, we're going to need everyone's help. We're looking for Doctor McKay. If you've seen him this morning, please radio Colonel Sheppard or Major Lorne, giving them specific details and times. Rodney, if you hear this announcement and can access a computer, please email us to let us know where you are. Or please approach someone with a radio. Thank you. Weir out."

The tech shut down the line, then looked up, hesitant. "Ma'am? I saw Doctor McKay heading in the direction of the labs this morning, when I was heading here to start my shift. I don't know if that helps or not."

"That helps," she said, nodding her head. "It'll give us a starting point if we need to search."

They waited a few minutes, but while John got a few calls from people saying they had seen Rodney not long after he had left them in the mess, heading for the labs, no one had seen him in the hours since. "Radek, are you sure he was'na there when you arrived?" The panic was starting to build in Carson's stomach.

"No, nowhere," Radek shook his head, his eyes serious and concerned behind his glasses. "It is hard to miss him."

"Who else was in the lab when you got there? Maybe one of them saw him leave this morning." John leaned forward, his gaze intent on the scientist.

"Actually," he said, looking thoughtful, "there were not many present. I was the third person to arrive in the main lab."

Elizabeth blinked. "I thought the science staff started work at 0800 every day. What time did you arrive?"

"Just prior. Maybe fifteen minutes before."

"I thought you people lived down there, I can't believe the whole staff was running late. What time did everyone else get there?" Sheppard shook his head.

"During times of crisis, we do spend extended hours in the labs," Radek said. "However, when we are performing research, we are at the mercy of our various projects and we adjust our time accordingly." He paused again, crossing his arms over his chest. "When I left for the meeting there were still many missing."

"Is that usual? I thought Rodney kept pretty strict work hours for the staff."

Radek shrugged. "Depends on his mood and what projects have caught his attention."

"All right, well, you said there were a few other people there when you arrived. Who were they? We can start there, see if either of them saw Rodney leave."

"Miko—she walked in just before I did. She was still drinking her tea. Johnson was working in the back, grumbling about the report Rodney had sent him. And Connor was in the middle of an experiment."

"Right. Lorne and I will head down to the labs to talk with them and see what we can find. Radek, go ahead and search the security feeds for the last three hours in the halls around the labs. Carson, go ahead and get a team together in the infirmary, just in case. Everyone report back in to Elizabeth if you find anything." John looked around, waiting for their affirmative nods before heading out.

"I will be in my lab if anyone needs me," Radek said, grabbing his laptop and following Sheppard and Lorne down the stairs toward the transporters.

Carson shared a concerned look with Elizabeth. "I'll put the emergency team on stand-by. It's been more than twenty-four hours since his DNA has been altered, so odds are good he's not going to have any kind of adverse reaction. But on the off chance that he is, we'll be ready."

"Good. Carson, I have to admit this has me worried. Rodney is far too concerned about his health to miss a medical check—even though he complains about it," Weir said. "Did he seem okay this morning when you talked to him?"

"Aye. Other than his very understandable frustration at not being able to speak, he seemed okay. In fact, he reminded us several times that he had a check with Doctor Biro he needed to get to."

"Did he mention any specific projects he was working on?" she asked, moving toward her office, Beckett at her side.

"Other than trying to figure out how to reverse what I—what the system gave him, no." He paused outside her door, not moving inside. "Let me know when they find him."

"I will," she said, eyeing him carefully. "And you know he doesn't blame you," she finally said. "I talked with him yesterday about it."

He gave her a short wave as he turned to walk back to the infirmary. "I'll go back to the research as soon as I check over my patients. The team will be ready to go if you need us when you find him."

"Carson," Weir called out.

He didn't stop, tossing the words back over his shoulder as he made his way to the transporter. "I'll e-mail you the report, since we didn't get a chance to talk about it this morning."

Weir didn't answer, apparently deciding she didn't feel like yelling after him—which was perfectly fine with him.

Once back in the infirmary, he let the emergency team know that they were on standby, and checked over the few accident victims still there, all doing well and on track to be released in another few hours. It only took him about ten minutes, and then he was back in his lab.

A call went over the senior officer's radio channel nearly an hour after they left the control room. "Zelenka to Sheppard."

"Sheppard here, Doc. What do you have for me?"

"Not much. I have discovered Rodney was in the main science lab—his pad and pen are next to his workstation and the security cameras indicate as much. They have a record of him entering the labs, but not leaving."

"Well, if he's not there, so how the hell did he get out without someone, including the cameras, seeing him?"

"I am unsure. I have Miko looking through the labs in case he is ignoring us. There are many rooms and corridors in this section."

"Radek," Carson broke in to the conversation, "What's the time stamp on the footage? I'm curious if Rodney headed there right after he left us this morning or not."

"Let me look. One second, please," Radek replied, the tapping of keys echoing over the radio. "Yes, here it is. Just prior to 0700."

John cut back in, some of his frustration and worry bleeding through into his voice. "And you've checked all the footage from that time until the present? It's not like he's a small man. He can't have gotten out without being seen."

"I have looked. What else do you think I have been doing for an hour?"

"All right, head back up to the control room, and see if you can do that trick of using the city sensors to check for out-of-place life signs. The three scientists I talked with didn't know anything, so I'm organizing teams of Marines to start a sweep of the city. Keep me informed if you find anything. Sheppard out."

Carson hated waiting, but he realized there were two voices he hadn't heard from yet. "Teyla, this is Carson, are you there lass?"

"Yes, Doctor Beckett," came her reply a moment later, her voice breathy. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I was wondering if you or Ronon had seen Rodney? None of us can find him, and the colonel has started a sweep of the city. And also, I wanted to thank you, for last night."

"I have not seen him since I left you last night. I believe Ronon just completed a training session with a group of Marines. The colonel asked a similar question only moments ago and we are arranging to meet him."

"Good. We're all starting to get a bit worried about Rodney. As far as we can tell, no one has seen him since breakfast this morning."

"That is not like him. Did you need anything further from me?"

"That's it. I just wanted to make sure you knew. Thanks, Teyla. Beckett out." He turned back to his research, needing something to keep him occupied other than worry until Rodney was found. He continued to keep one ear on the radio, though, switching it back to the senior staff channel.

Nearly another thirty minutes passed before Radek came back on the channel, asking Sheppard to check out several readings in the city—one in the sub-basement and several in the more remote sections.

"I'll send Ronon out to the North Pier locations," Sheppard said. "He has some Marines with him. I'll have Teyla check out the ones near the West Pier. I'll head into the sub-basement. Can you give me exact locations or pass along the information to the teams?"

"I will pass along the remote locations to the teams. The readings in the sub-basement can be found near the waste purification system. It was scheduled for maintenance soon, but I had not heard that anyone was assigned to it yet, so there should be no life signs in that location. I have pinpointed the readings to one of the storage closets near the main facility." Radek replied.

"Thanks, Doc. I'll be in touch once I get down there. Maybe some is working down there."

"Yes, but as you said, we should examine all possibilities, yes? I will keep searching the outer sections of the city in the meantime. Zelenka out."

Carson stood, stretching a little, and double-checking his emergency med kit, sitting near the door. He paced a bit, waiting to hear if any of the teams had found their missing physicist.

The call finally came twenty minutes later. "Sheppard to Beckett." John's voice was tight.

"Aye, I'm here. Have you found him?"

"Yes. You're going to need a gurney and your kit. And bring scrubs."

His stomach did a flip. "On my way," He responded, heading out of the room and signaling for the emergency team to follow him. "Are you still in the sub-basement? Describe his condition to me."

"Yes. He's sitting in one of the access rooms off the waste purification system area. He's nearly naked, shivering, and completely unresponsive." Sheppard sounded worried, desperate even. "Lorne and I have been talking to him, but we're not getting anything."

"Wrap jackets and anything else you have to spare around him, and keep talking to him. We'll be there in five minutes."

"Already done."

Carson hurried through the halls, almost skidding as he rounded the corner and saw the Marines huddled around a door. Spotting John inside the room, he headed toward him. "Colonel, has there been any change?"

"Nothing." His jaw was tight, the muscles clenched as he gestured for Beckett to hurry. Lorne and Sheppard were still kneeling next to the unresponsive scientist.

Lorne moved out of the way as Carson dropped to his knees next to Rodney, noting that the man was stripped, and had the distinctive odor of someone who had been working on waste removal. He reached out for his wrist, checking his pulse. "Rodney, lad, it's Carson. Can you hear me?"

Rodney blinked, his forehead furrowing a little. He turned his head toward Beckett, his eyes tracking slowly.

"This is new," Sheppard commented quietly.

"Rodney? We're going to get some clothes on you, then bring you up to the infirmary. If you can understand me, nod your head." Carson took the scrubs one of his staff handed him over his shoulder.

McKay nodded slowly, his eyes beginning to slide around the room, taking in the hovering Marines. The pulse under Carson's fingers began to increase.

Carson reached out, gently taking Rodney's face and forcing the man to look at him. "I've no idea why or how you got here, but we need to get you upstairs and do a full check. Take a deep breath, and while we're on our way, try to remember as much as you can. I'll get you a laptop as soon as I get you settled to tell us what happened, okay?"

The man nodded, taking a deep breath. His eyes, though, were wide and panicked.

Keeping his voice low and soothing, Carson started to help him get dressed. "Colonel, could you send away anyone who doesn't need to be here? They'll only get in the way, and I want to get Rodney to the scanners as quickly as possible." Sheppard quickly moved the bystanders out, leaving Lorne at the door. Carson heard quiet conversation from the colonel and figured he was checking in with Elizabeth.

Beckett directed his next words to Rodney, hoping to help stem the panic attack he could see threatening. "I din'na see any blood, but I want to do a full work-up, as well as an MRI to check for head injuries. Any pain I should know about?"

Rodney shook his head in answer to Carson's question, helping as much as he could to get dressed—which meant they both ended up frustrated.

Finally getting Rodney dressed, he led the man to the stretcher. "Can you hop on up on your own? If not, we can help you." He was worried. The complete unresponsiveness Sheppard had described, and now this—he honestly didn't know what do make of it.

Rodney shook his head, pantomiming walking with two fingers.

"I know you'd prefer to walk, but at this point I don't know what's wrong with you, and I don't want to risk exacerbating a head injury."

McKay sighed silently, crossing his hands over his chest, his chin rising as he stopped next to the gurney. He looked directly at Carson and mouthed two words, obviously over-enunciating.

_I'm fine._

Carson crossed his own arms. When it came to medical matters, he was at least, if not more, stubborn than Rodney McKay. "You're not fine. We found you shivering in your skivvies and unresponsive in the sub-basement level of the city, where you had no business being. Until I know why, you are officially admitted back into the infirmary until further notice."

The scientist raised his chin a little more, trying to stare down his friend until his eyes shifted away, uncertainty flickering across his face. With exaggerated care, he finally moved to the awaiting stretcher, allowing Carson to swing his legs up. The medics moved quickly, fastening the straps for transport. Rodney kept his eyes on the ceiling, letting them work around him.

Carson moved so he was in his friend's line of sight. "I know you don't like this, and I'm sorry. I'm worried, Rodney, just let me be the doctor, okay?"

McKay nodded reluctantly, the gesture his only response.

"Doc?" Sheppard approached silently, pausing a few feet away.

Carson stepped away, letting his staff start back for the infirmary with their patient. He turned to John, "Aye?"

"How's he doing?"

He shook his head. "At first glance, nothing seems to be wrong. He is'na showing any symptoms of a concussion or other head injury, and does'na seem to be in any pain. We'll have to run some tests to be sure, of course, but I can't think of any medical reason he would have been in the state you found him in from what little I've seen."

"Okay," the muscles along John's jaw tightened. "I'm going to have a discreet conversation with Zelenka and poke around a little more. It's a little strange for no one to have seen Rodney all morning. Someone knows something."

"Aye." Carson started to walk away, then stopped, feeling himself go pale. He turned slowly back to the chief military officer. "Colonel, how many people in the city have the ATA gene now? Rodney isn't universally loved...."

"Already crossed my mind—and Elizabeth's. Right now, I think I'd prefer it if you can explain this as some medical condition. The other…" John trailed off, shrugging. "Keep this under wraps for now and let me know what you find."

Carson couldn't stop the tremor that ran through him. If there was no medical reason, it meant someone had been malicious enough to actually use Rodney. God, this could be bad. "I'll keep you posted. I don't suppose you'd mind lending me Major Lorne for a while? If it is what we suspect, I'd feel better knowing there's someone I trust keeping an eye on Rodney. And it would'na hurt to have someone with the ATA around to counteract any…poorly conceived…orders tossed Rodney's way."

John's eyes narrowed, but he nodded, gesturing for Lorne. He spoke quickly and quietly to the major, explaining the situation. Carson could see the anger and surprise on the other man's face as he finally nodded.

"Not a problem, sir. I'd be happy to help."

"Good, come with me then, lad. I doubt Rodney will welcome a guard, even for his own protection, so if you can stay in the background a bit, that would probably be for the best. I just want you nearby in case we need you." Carson offered the soldier a smile, walking towards the transporter. He had a patient to take care of.

***

 

Rodney McKay settled himself a little more in the bed, wishing he was anywhere except the infirmary, but the whole memory gap was a little…unnerving. He'd allowed Carson to do all of his tests and scans without complaining.

He shivered, still a little cold from the whole experience. He really wanted to take a hot shower, but Carson had asked him to be patient, that a shower was on the agenda once he had a spare minute. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to shower on his own now either. It was bad enough that he'd spotted Lorne hovering—most likely due to Carson's mother-henning ways.

He plucked at the sheet covering him, wishing he had a laptop or something. At least he'd be able to get something done.

The voodoo devil himself came around the corner, a chart in his hands. "All right, all your scans and tests are coming back negative. I know you're desperate for a shower, so I've set it up for you. When you're done, head back here and I'll have your laptop waiting for you. I'd like to see if we can jog your memory a bit, and that will make communication faster."

Rodney nodded, throwing off the sheet and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood quickly, thankful that the room remained steady. He knew he'd felt fine. The non-speaking thing was annoying more than anything.

"All right, Anne will be keeping an eye out for you, so signal her when you're ready for me, and she'll come get me, okay?" Carson smiled.

McKay waved him off, striding to the infirmary bathroom, finding fresh scrubs, a pair of his boxers, as well as a pair of thick gym socks waiting for him. He rolled his eyes, knowing Carson had made sure he'd had everything, but thankful for the Scot's forethought.

He stripped quickly, tossing his soiled clothes into the hamper before turning on the water, adjusting it before stepping in. He tweaked it a few times, making it as hot as he could stand, enjoying the heat and the steam. He washed himself quickly with the soap and cloth provided before scrubbing his scalp with a dollop of shampoo.

Once clean, he leaned against the wall, letting the water warm him. He sighed, beginning to feel human once again.

There was a light knock on the door, and he recognized the nurse's—Anne Matthews—voice. "Doctor McKay, is everything all right?"

He snaked a hand outside the enclosure, his thumb pointed up.

"Okay, just checking." He heard the smile in her voice, then the sound of her moving away.

Soaking a few more minutes, he finally turned off the water and dried himself quickly, throwing on the clothes, the fabric sticking in places he'd missed with the towel. It would dry. He fingered his hair into place after wiping the mirror down with his hand.

Poking his head out of the bathroom, he padded pack to the bed he'd vacated, finding it adorned with new sheets and blankets along with two pillows. His laptop was sitting on the hospital table along with a sandwich and a bottle of water.

Poking at the food—discovering it was something chicken-like—he settled onto the bed, the blankets pooled in his lap as he pulled the table closer. He'd been working on the database for a little while, eating slowly, by the time Carson wandered by again.

"Good, you found everything." He looked at the food in Rodney's lap and frowned a little as he pulled a chair over next to the bed. "I thought you were eating your food, not playing with it. Now, what have you been able to remember?"

Rodney shrugged, picking up the plate and putting it back on the table. He gestured at the two of them and pantomimed drinking. He paused, then with two fingers indicated that he remembered walking and then finished with a shrug, pointing to Carson.

"Go ahead and type it out. You'll have to anyway for the report, and it might jog something loose."

Rodney sighed but turned to the laptop. Opening a blank text document, he started typing, letting his fingers fly across the keyboard before turning it to his friend.

_We had breakfast. I remember that clearly and then I remember leaving. I was headed to the labs to check on some projects, but I don't remember anything until you were sitting next to me on the floor._

Carson ran a hand through his hair, settling back into the chair. He seemed to hesitate for a second. "Physically, there is'na anything else wrong with you. The only reason I can think of that you can't remember is that someone—took advantage—of your current situation and ordered you to forget it afterwards."

Rodney's felt his eyes widen, his breath stopping in his chest. _You're kidding?_

"I wish I was. Colonel Sheppard and Radek are going through the security feeds, but so far nothing has come up. We don't even have footage of you leaving the lab. I didn't think anyone would actually stoop to something like this, otherwise we would have been more careful, and for that I'm very sorry."

_I don't even remember walking into the lab, let alone leaving it. This is not good._

"I know. I do have an idea though. Obviously someone with the ATA took advantage of you, and given what they had you do, we can narrow it down to the science staff. If you'll agree, I can try ordering you to remember what happened. I've no idea if it will work, but it stands to reason that if you can be ordered to forget, it will work in reverse. I'll only do it if you agree though."

_That has bad idea written all over it. What if they made me do something or they did something_

Carson cut him off even before he finished typing out his thought. "Rodney, nothing you did or didn't do was your fault. If someone with the ATA told you to do it, under the circumstances you did'na have any choice. It's the person who's responsible for the order who was in the wrong."

_How about we forget this whole thing happened?_

"I'd love to, but I'm not sure that's a good idea. From what Radek was able to pull from the logs for that section, you performed the full regular check of the systems down there."

_I did?_

"Aye. In your skivvies, which is why you were so, ah, dirty. As I said, at this point I'm pretty sure it was just an attempt to embarrass you a bit, especially since there was no physical damage at all. But as your doctor, I'd like to make sure."

Rodney looked at Carson carefully before nodding reluctantly.

Carson paused for a second, looking uncomfortable. "All right, I'm going to try to be very specific." He took a deep breath, then continued, a note of command in his voice. "Rodney, I want you to type everything that happened between when you left me in the mess this morning and when I found you on the floor. I want you to stop immediately if doing so causes you any pain or discomfort."

Rodney nodded, his hands settling on the keyboard before he started typing.

_I left the mess with my coffee and decided to swing into the labs before heading to the infirmary to see Biro. I knew some of the projects were not going as well as I wanted them to be, especially since I hadn't been around. There was no one in the halls on the way there and I remember turning the corner, heading to the main doors. I even remember them sliding open, but I don't remember stepping through._

_The next thing I remember is being cold and you were next to me saying something. I'm not even sure what it was that you said, but I turned to look at you and saw everyone standing behind you._

He stopped, reading over what he'd typed before turning it to Carson after adding a final line.

_Sorry. I'm not sure this is much different than before._

Carson sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot. All right, you have a choice. I'm not comfortable letting you go off on your own, in case someone else decides to try something. So you can stay here for the rest of the day and tonight, or I can release you back to your room, if you'll agree to let Major Lorne go with you."

Rodney scowled. _He's going to do what? Watch me work and sleep?_

"He can stand outside the door if you don't want him inside. Mostly, I want someone I trust with the ATA with you, to make sure no one else takes advantage of you. Think of him as your own personal bodyguard."

Rodney rolled his eyes.

_I guess telling you that I can take care of myself is a moot point right now, isn't it?_

"Taking care of yourself is one thing, and we can debate that later. But you don't have any defense at all against someone with the ATA and a grudge right now. Evan's gene is one of the strongest on base after the colonel and myself. That means even if someone shouts an order at you, one of us can override it, but only if we're there. Sheppard is working on tracking down the bloody miscreant who did this, and I need to get back to figuring out how to reverse what was done to you, which leaves Lorne. We aren't asking this to try to restrict you, just the opposite. We want to make sure you're free to do what you want until this is over."

Rodney closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face before nodding.

He heard Carson stand, felt his hand come to rest on his leg. "I promise you we're doing everything to find a way to reverse it."

Opening his eyes, he tapped on the keyboard for a minute before turning it to Carson.

_It's not that. This whole situation is just bad in so many ways it's not even funny. Most of the base probably has grudges against me. It can be anyone or even a group of anyones. I hate the fact that Lorne has to baby-sit me, but I also hate the fact that there's a big gaping hole in my memory in which strange things could have been done to my person and I'd never remember until I suddenly drop dead or something. I know it's not your fault. It's the whole situation. But it just sucks._

Several emotions crossed Carson's face before it settled back to his standard friendly doctor look. "I know. I'm working as fast as I can. I think I've isolated the chemicals that took your voice, so that's what I'm focusing on first. At least that way you can communicate easily again." He looked up catching the eye of one of his nurses and motioning her over. "Shelley will get you all signed out. I'll let you know as soon as I find anything."

Rodney nodded, watching Carson's retreating back even as Shelley walked over, going through the usual list of dos and don'ts. He paid attention—vaguely—but his mind wasn't really here. If they'd only stayed out of the stupid base. If he hadn't been so damn focused on the possibility of a ZPM. If only…

What a mess.

***

Carson glanced at his watch, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Another late night working, when he had really only gotten about two hours of sleep last night. Rodney had woken up shortly after he had finally nodded off.

But he finally had something to work with. He had completely isolated the chemical paralyzing his friend’s voice box. Now it was just a matter of synthesizing it and finding an antidote. Just….

He knew he was getting to the point where he was going to start making mistakes, so he stood up and moved to the small couch he had brought in not long after taking over. Once he was lying down, however, his mind refused to stop. “Bloody everlasting hell. I just want to sleep for a few hours. You’d think my brain would cooperate!”

"Carson?" Elizabeth's voice floated into the room, concern clearly evident.

He shot up off the couch, one hand on his chest as his heart beat wildly. What was it with women sneaking up on him lately? He needed to get the whole lot of them bells to wear or something. "Elizabeth! I did'na hear you come in. What can I do for you? Is anything wrong?"

"Sorry," she said, a sheepish expression on her face. "I actually came down here looking for a sleeping pill. I didn't expect you to still be here."

He shook his head, offering her a small smile. "It's all right, lass. I just did'na realize anyone was there. Having trouble sleeping?"

She shrugged, perching on the edge of his desk. "Hmm, well, who isn't?"

"True." He walked over to the medicine supply cabinet, pulling out a small bottle and shaking two pills into his hand. He brought them over and handed them to her. "Take one first, and if you're still having trouble, take the other. Give yourself about eight hours to sleep, otherwise you'll be groggy in the morning."

She pursed her lips before answering. "Unfortunately, I know those instructions too well. Thank you." She paused, looking at him. "How are you doing? You look exhausted."

"Aye, just tired. I'm having a wee bit of trouble getting my mind to stop working long enough to sleep. I think I'll go walk by Rodney's room and check in on him, before heading back to my own place. I might have better luck there."

"There's no place like home," she said with a smile, moving to walk alongside him. "He looked okay when I popped my head in on him before. He wasn't happy with Major Lorne, though. It seems that the major made him stop wearing his headset."

One eyebrow went up. "Why would he do a thing like that?"

"I'm not sure. Rodney wasn't happy, but the major had gone to grab some food and a cot when I was visiting, so I didn't get the chance to ask him."

"Now you have me curious. I'll have to ask in the morning then." He stopped outside Rodney's door, waving his hand in front of the sensor to make it open. A brief look inside showed both men sleeping, Rodney curled in his bed, and Evan sprawled across a cot nearby. With a smile, he closed the door again, and started back down the hall.

"All tucked in?"

"Aye, they're both sound asleep. They probably wore each other out. Evan has a wicked sense of humor sometimes, but a kind heart. He'll be good for the lad until this is over."

"If they don't kill each other, you mean," Elizabeth said, chuckling lightly as they stopped just outside Carson's door. "Are you going to be able to sleep?"

He rubbed a hand across his face. "Probably not, but I'll lie down for a bit. How about you? Will you be okay?"

She frowned at his comment, but held up her hand, still closed around the pills he'd given her. "I think these will do the trick."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything else, I'll be happy to help." He opened his door, but didn't go in yet.

"Carson," she said, pausing, her eyes sliding to a point somewhere to the right of him, just above the door panel. "What will happen if we can't get him back to normal?"

He carefully blanked out his expression before answering. "That will depend mostly on Rodney. He's still himself if I can't fix this, he could probably adjust and be just as productive as ever if he wants to. But we aren't going to start worrying about that just yet. I will find a way to reverse this."

"I have every confidence that you will be able to find a cure, to reverse this, but realistically? This is something we have to consider, even if we don't want to. This incident today has me worried. I know he can do his job here on the base, but off-world missions might be an issue, if not an impossibility for him. And that makes up a large amount of his time, attention, and interest. It would be a huge adjustment and one I’m not sure Rodney will want to make."

He felt his hands tighten convulsively into fists. "Aye, you're right to be worried, but let's not start down that path yet. The last thing we need is for Rodney to start feeling depressed or hopeless, when we have'na hit that stage yet. Give me a bit more time to work on this. I've already isolated the chemicals used to take his voice; in the next few days I should have something ready to try and fix that. Let's not start looking for trouble before we've exhausted all our options."

Weir sighed, pursing her lips, the muscles along her jaw tightening. "The last thing I want to do is to put a damper on your work or Rodney's hopes, but it's my job to look at all possibilities. We need to be realistic about this. Genetic manipulation of this scale is still beyond us technically. I've read the reports, Carson. I've been through the database. I honestly don't see much of the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel."

"No. I din'na care how advanced it is. I will find a way to undo this. Just give me the time to do the research, to pinpoint exactly what was done, what was changed. "

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly before letting out a long breath. "I'm just saying that we have to be ready for any possibility—whether we like them or not."

"I understand that you have to think this way, but I'm a doctor, Elizabeth. I don't accept failure when it comes to my patients until there's no hope of getting them breathing again."

"I know you'll do your best," she said, moving a few steps away. She looked at him for a long moment before offering a half-smile. "Try and get some rest, Carson. Look at things with new eyes in the morning. Good night."

He nodded, but didn't reply. Once he was inside with the door shut, he slumped against the wall. Great, now he really wasn't going to be able to sleep. Sitting down at his desk, he booted up the laptop waiting there and logged in. If he was going to be awake anyway, he might as well get some work done.

***

Major Lorne wasn't a happy camper, but Rodney didn't care. He had work to do and it wasn't getting done by sitting in his quarters.

It had come close to Lorne ordering Rodney to stay inside, though after a brief, but pointed email argument with Colonel Sheppard, they'd finally relented. It was bad enough that the man was going to be hovering all day long, but he was not going to stop him from working and doing his job.

It had been a good day, at least so far, he thought. His last written notes scribbled in the margins of one of the scientist's reports had sent her away in tears. It wasn't the same as yelling at them for being idiots, but it came close. And besides, they could read his notes over and over just in case they decided to do the same lame experiment again.

After standing near Rodney's elbow and scowling at everyone for several hours, Lorne had finally calmed down, moving to a nearby chair and settling down. At least it gave Rodney some privacy when it came to running his department. There was no need for the major to see or hear everything that went on down here—especially since a lot of the projects were highly theoretical as of yet. It was bad enough when he caught words and phrases like "increase the power" and "recharge the ZPM" and "big space weapon" and had no concept of the context of the conversation. There was no need for Lorne to get all excited about something that might never happen.

Lorne had forced him to stop for lunch, giving him the "evil eye" and the looming threat of an order to stop working before Rodney capitulated. He did, however, manage to make lunch brief so he could get back to work. He still had several appointments scattered throughout the afternoon, not including the usual "stop-bys" he'd been getting. He swore some had been just so they could gawk at him, but the written notes made sure a good many of them didn't come back unless they had a good reason to.

He'd managed to direct a few people to Kusangi—the ones who needed a good verbal take-down. She was good with that. He'd sent another one or two to Miko so she could help them straighten out some of the math when the principles they were working on were sound.

The hardest ones to deal with were the new scientists who'd arrived on the last Daedalus run. He hadn't figured out the best way to deal with some of them yet and a few of them cried far too easily. He hated blubbering.

One of them was hovering now. "Doctor McKay?" he asked in a polite tone.

Rodney held up his left hand, gesturing for him to wait as he finished writing his latest missive to Radek about one of the on-going projects. Hitting the last key, he re-read it before sending it off and turning to the scientist. He raised an eyebrow and gestured for the man to speak, his right hand waving in the air.

"I was hoping you could help me with this," he said, shoving several pages-worth of documents and reports into McKay's hands.

Raising an eyebrow, Rodney dug out his pad.

_And this is what exactly, apart from being a mess?_

"I'm sure you remember. It's the project you tell everyone is brilliant."

Rodney nodded vaguely, his gaze shifting back down to the pages.

_And why is this written on paper instead of organized in electronic documents?_

The scientist shrugged. "I like paper. It's something tangible, just like the project I’m working on."

Rodney raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, taking a few minutes to familiarize himself with the experiment and the progress that had been made. Strangely enough, it did seem almost brilliant in its execution. Huh.

"So, what do you think Doctor McKay?" The man kept his voice quiet.

_I’m actually impressed. But I can see where some of your problems are. It's in the equations toward the end._

He turned the pages around, pointing to the equations he'd noticed were wrong, his pen scribbling some fixes in the margins.

"I just had a thought. Why don't you fix all the mistakes, and make any tweaks you think necessary while you're at it, and then type the whole thing up and mail it back to me?"

Rodney raised an eyebrow.

_Because that's your job. What's your name again?_

"That's not important and you aren't curious about it. You are, however, very interested in completing this project quietly, and giving it back to me for credit."

Rodney nodded slowly, picking up the pages and shuffling through them, standing them upright and tapping them against the desk to even out the pile. Something wasn't right here, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He glanced at Lorne and spotted him chatting with Radek.

Placing them back on his desk, adjacent to his workstation, he grabbed his pad again.

_It's more than curiosity. In order to give you credit and send you the file, I have to know who you are. Just because my memory with names is bad it doesn't mean I don't need to know it._

"You're going to create an account on the secure server, with the password," the man paused for a moment, a slight smile on his lips, "…with the password 'sanitary'. Send the files there. Oh, and Doctor McKay, you aren't going to talk to anyone else about this conversation."

Rodney nodded. That made sense. _Was there anything else?_

"Not right now. But I may need to talk to you later. About the project. If I come by, you'll drop everything to speak with me."

_Of course. This is an important project, brilliant even._

"Precisely, because we know whose orders count, don't we?" The man smiled again, then looked up as Lorne and Radek walked over. "Thanks for the help, Doctor McKay. Doctor Zelenka, Major." He nodded his head, then wandered away, Rodney's eyes fixed on his back, his forehead furrowed. There was something itching in the back of his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

As the two men stopped at his workstation, Rodney shook off the strange feeling and tore off the top sheets of his pad, crumbling them up to join the others at the bottom of the wastebasket. He scribbled roughly on the clean sheet.

_What?_

"Just checking up on you, Doc. How's it going?" Lorne leaned against the desk.

_Fine. Good actually. Not everyone in here is a moron. You?_

"I've had worse assignments. You guys have some really weird shit going on down here. I'm starting to realize why Colonel Sheppard spends all his free time haunting the place." Lorne grinned at him.

Rodney rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the Czech, waving his hand in an effort to get some actual information from them.

Radek grinned. "Major Lorne is eager to help us by taking a turn being light switch. Since he is here anyway, I thought perhaps you could go through the back-log and choose some of them for me to bring out. There are several we have been anxious to try, but no one with a strong enough gene was available to initialize them until now."

Rodney nodded. _Fine, yes. But I have to finish up some things too, you know. Let's be quick about this._

Radek bounced a bit on his toes. "Yes yes, I will go get most likely items and bring them here. There are several that were found near the medical labs, so perhaps we will find something to help with the current situation. It never hurts to be hopeful, no?"

Rolling his eyes, he waved them off, turning back to his workstation and the project he wanted to finish. It would take some time to get everything straightened out, but that was okay.

Lorne leaned over a little nearer, staying close while the Czech went bouncing off to get the artifacts. He laid one hand lightly on Rodney's arm. "Doc? If this is a problem, I can tell Radek I'll do it later. My job right now is to stay close to you, but I don't want to interfere in your work any more than is necessary."

Shaking his head, he grabbed his pad. _No, not a problem. We need to go through some of the devices. I just have a few things I need to get done, too, and I'm dealing with a department of idiots._

Lorne nodded, backing off a bit, and offering him a smile. "Okay, just, if you want me to go sit quietly and shut up while you work, let me know, okay? I won't let you work through dinner, but otherwise, feel free to tell me to go be unobtrusive."

_That sounds like a good idea. Best idea you had all day._

Laughing softly, Lorne patted him on the back, and then moved to his former seat as he talked. "Hey, you geeks have saved our asses more times than I can count, Doc, and a big part of that is because of what you're doing down here. Doesn't mean I'm not going to protect you from yourself, but I know when to back off, believe it or not."

Rodney raised an eyebrow, sending him a 'you've got to be kidding me look'.

Lorne tried to look innocent, then gave up on it and just grinned.

Shaking his head, Rodney turned back to his workstation and the project he was working on, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he entered the information from the pages, tweaking as he went. If he continued like this for the next few hours he'd be able to get it completed and then he could move on to some other things.

It was probably about forty-five minutes before Radek came back, pushing a small cart loaded down with Ancient devices, parking it next to Rodney's desk.

"I have grabbed everything in the 'probably not going to blow us up' pile, although I thought you would want to make determinations of what exactly we have the major touch. Colonel Sheppard would not be pleased if we blew up his second-in-command, although he would probably be happy it was not him this time."

Rolling his eyes, he rolled over to the cart and picked through the pile. After dropping a few on his desk, he pointed at Lorne, and then at the items he'd picked out, before turning back to the cart.

Lorne rose, coming to stand next to Radek, his eyes bright. "Um, one quick question before I start. Why is it called the 'probably won't blow us up' pile? Should I be concerned?"

“No no,” Radek waved his hand at the major. “I avoided the ‘don’t touch, will kill you’ and ‘odds are good these are very dangerous’ piles for this experiment. There is very little danger. Mostly, we think these are scanners of various types, as well as what the colonel refers to as ‘doodads.’ Please, choose one, and let us begin.”

“All right.” He picked one up out of the pile, a small, round device with something that looked suspiciously like an antenna sticking out of the top. “This looks like the toy mouse I used to tease my cat with,” he said as he closed his eyes and focused on the equipment.

Rodney glanced up, watching as the device lit up. Radek scribbled various notes into his PDA, after asking Lorne a few questions about the feel of the object. He picked through the devices, pulling out three more, leaving them on the desk before turning back to his workstation, and allowing the two of them play.

He looked back up as Lorne made a sort of squeak, and dropped one of the devices on the table. He turned a fascinating shade of red. "Uh, that one, um, yeah... The Ancients were kinky bastards. Next device."

Chuckling silently, Rodney made a mental note to grab that one before Radek wheeled the cart away.

"Hey, cool! Doc, this one might come in handy at the moment." Lorne's exclamation drew his attention back to them a half-hour later. The pile was split between things that needed further study and those that were either dead or broken. "If I'm getting the feeling of it right, I think it might be sort of like a holograph thingy." He closed his eyes again for a moment, and over the top of the device, the words 'this is so freaking cool' appeared.

Rodney felt his eyes widen and he grabbed the device from Lorne's hands.

Both Lorne and Radek watched him, almost identical looks of eager anticipation on their faces.

Rodney closed his eyes and concentrated, a weird feeling in the back of his mind letting him know that he'd connected to the device. Opening his eyes, a smug grin on his face, he thought about what his first comment should be.

"It's about damn time you found something like this. I'm getting writer's cramp."

Radek actually cackled at that, and Lorne's grin got bigger. "Happy to be of service."

"Idiots."

It was strange to see the words he'd thought floating in mid-air and then dissipate after a few seconds, but it sure would save him paper.

They both just laughed. Lorne stood up and stretched a bit before checking his watch. "Hey, its dinner time. Are you ready to grab some food? I can report in to the colonel and Doctor Weir at the same time. And you can show off your cool new toy."

"I need to finish what I'm working on," Rodney said, thinking the words at the device in his hand. He also needed to figure out if he could clip it onto his jacket or something. Carrying it would be a pain. Besides, he always talked with his hands. "Give me another two hours or so."

"Come on, Doc, I'm starving here. Who would have thought thinking at things all afternoon would work up such an appetite. We can come back here afterwards for a couple of hours if you really want to."

"You're not going to let me work until I eat, are you?"

"I think it's safe to say this falls under 'the protect you from yourself' category. Plus, I really am hungry."

Sighing, he locked down his computer. "I don't need protection," he said, rising to his feet. His back popped as he stretched.

"Okay, so don't think of it as protection. Think of it as friendly concern. Believe it or not, I actually kinda like you, Doc. Seeing you keel over in hypo-whatever shock is not on my list of top ten things I want to witness."

"And, contrary to popular belief, I know exactly when I need to eat so as not to let that happen." He wished the floating words could translate his annoyance, but they just hung there before disappearing without any sound effects. Now, if the device actually spoke his words…Huh. That might an interesting project, but after he finished the one he was working on.

"Yeah, I figure you probably do, since you've managed to survive this long." He paused for a moment, an entirely fake pout appearing on his face. "But you wouldn't make me starve, would you? You'll take pity on the poor major who just saved your hands from eternal cramping, right?"

"Am I walking with you to the mess? I think I am. Is it to save you from the hunger pangs you're experiencing? No. It's so I can get back to work as quickly as possible." Rodney shook his head, speeding up his pace as he headed to the transporter. A quick trip and they'd be there.

Lorne laughed, speeding up to match his pace to Rodney's. "Awww, Doc, and here I thought maybe you cared, just a little."

"Don't push your luck."

As they walked into the transporter, Lorne pushed the button closest to their destination. "What, only room in that geek heart of yours for one pet soldier? And here I was hoping that maybe I could be the back-up, when Sheppard's busy."

"Major, leave it alone, would you? I'm tired, cranky, and really busy. I'm humoring you because I know you won't hesitate to order me to eat and I'm trying to be civil about this whole arrangement."

Lorne sighed, matching his pace to Rodney's again as they made their way to the mess. "I know you are."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"And that's not the role I'm playing. Trust me, the last time I babysat, my sister wouldn't let me see my niece for a month. Claimed I was a bad influence. I'm more like a bodyguard, here to beat up anyone who doesn't cower properly before you."

"In this instance, it's the same difference," he commented as they turned into the mess. Rodney bee-lined it to the food.

Lorne came behind him, grabbing his own dinner. "Hey, Colonel Sheppard is over there, with Doctor Weir. We can kill two birds with one stone if you want to sit with them and report while we eat. Hey, I just thought, now you can eat and talk at the same time with the gadget! Sweet. Multi-tasking without being rude."

"Fine. Let's get this dog and pony show over with," he said, grabbing a Jell-O cup and pointing to the less noxious dinner choice.

Lorne led the way over, dropping into the seat next to Sheppard. "Sir. We found a new toy for Doctor McKay."

"Toy?" Sheppard's eyebrow rose as he turned to Rodney.

"Yes. I can now torment people by thinking at this device as you can clearly see," he commented, already digging into his dinner. It seemed that it didn't have to be in contact with him as long as it was activated. That was good to know.

Elizabeth's eyebrow rose. "Rodney, that's excellent. I know that must make things much easier. Where did you find it?"

He shrugged. "Zelenka did. I just picked it out of a cart."

Rodney saw Sheppard giving Lorne a look, which prompted the other man to give a bit more information. "Doctors McKay and Zelenka had me turning on some of their mostly harmless stuff today, since I was there anyway. That was one of the devices we discovered, sir."

"Yes, we've found something that allows me to think at people and it displays my brilliant nuggets of wisdom for all to see. This doesn't solve any of my current problems, however, does it?" He scowled across the table before turning back to his dinner, half of it already gone.

"True, but I talked with Carson last night, and he seems to think it will only be a few days before he's ready to start trying something to bring your voice back. Since that was the less complicated of the two problems, he decided to tackle that first. Until then, at least this gives you a more effective form of communication." Elizabeth offered him an encouraging smile as she picked at the remains of her own dinner.

"Sure." A few bites later and he was done. "Look, I need to head back to the labs," he said, grabbing his dessert and rising to his feet.

"McKay," Sheppard drawled, verbally joining the conversation for the first time, "take a few minutes to let the food digest. We're not in crisis mode. You don't have to kill yourself to save anything or anyone at the moment."

Rodney paused mid-stride, annoyance filtering across his face.

Sheppard shook his head. "I'm not ordering you to stay, I'm asking you to sit and hang out for a few minutes and let poor Lorne eat." He gestured at the soldier, who had started to rise along with Rodney, his dinner no more than a quarter gone.

"Well, my brain has unfortunately taken your suggestion as an order otherwise I'd be out in the hallway already. And I'm sure you have another overgrown babysitter you can send along."

"It's okay, sir, I don't mind." Lorne grabbed the roll off his plate, and the glass of tea he had been drinking and stood next to Rodney. "Whenever you're ready, Doc."

"I was ready several minutes ago," he said a scowl on his face.

"Lead on then, Mein Furer. Where you lead, I shall follow."

If anything, Rodney knew his face got darker. Instead of commenting, he strode out of the mess, nearly bowling over several scientists and marines as they entered.

"Hey!" Lorne hurried to catch up, neatly dodging the people Rodney sent scurrying. "Hey, Doc, whatever I did, I'm sorry! I'll sit quietly and behave until bedtime, I swear."

"Right now the only thing to make me happy would be for this to be one horrible nightmare," he finally said, pausing outside the transporter.

"Look, I know, and I'm sorry." Lorne took a bite out of his roll, waiting until he had swallowed to continue. "For what its worth, the reason you got me instead of some other grunt is because I honestly don't want to make your life hard; I'm here to make sure no one else does, so you can work in relative peace."

"You're still hovering."

"It's a small transporter, Doc, and I'm juggling hot tea and a roll. As soon as we're back in the hall, I'll back off."

Rolling his eyes, he stepped out of the transporter a few moments later. Lorne trailed behind him. He hated this. He hated people watching him, hovering. He knew how to take care of himself. But at the same time, he was worried about what could happen, what had already happened and that just made him angry. He knew Lorne was trying to help, was trying to keep him from wandering off on some insane mission he'd have no recollection of in the morning, but he was also the only tangible thing he had since Rodney had absolutely no memory of the incident in question.

Lorne was…convenient—as a scapegoat, punching bag, whatever.

When they got back to the lab, it was mostly deserted. True to his word, Lorne settled in and sat quietly in his chair, although his eyes were still sharp Rodney had no doubt he was paying close attention to what was going on around him.

"Look. I'm going to be here for a few hours," he finally said, pointing the device toward Lorne so he could read what he was thinking at him. "Get yourself something to do so you're not staring at me."

Lorne shrugged. "I couldn't even if I wanted to, Doc. Turning on devices earlier was one thing, since it didn't take up much concentration from my actual duty, but distracting myself is sort of against my orders at the moment."

"There's no one here besides us, or haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Doesn't matter. Look, think of it this way. I'm in the military, which means that while I'm not compelled to obey orders like you are at the moment, I still have to obey when my superiors tell me what to do. And right now, I was told to be on alert for some punk who thinks it's funny to mess with you. Personally, I'm hoping he'll try something so I can beat the crap out of him. Can't do that if I don't notice he's here."

"If you can't spot someone in the room apart from the two of us when you're playing Solitaire then, somehow, I think you have bigger problems than I can help you with."

Lorne just grinned at him. "Not that I wouldn't like to play a little Solitaire, but if Sheppard came in and caught me, I'd be on KP duty for a month. Personally, I'd rather be a bit bored than be faced with that."

"And I'd rather you weren't staring at my neck watching me work. Are you getting my drift now?"

Lorne let out a sigh. "Look, I wish I could get out of your hair since I know you really don't want me here, and I'm trying, I promise. But I can't leave, and I can't do something else while I'm on duty. If you have something I can help you with, fine, I can do that since my attention will still be in the right place, but otherwise, I'll try not to stare."

Rodney rubbed his hands over his face, thinking "Fine" to the Ancient device, before turning back to his work. Several minutes passed before he could feel Lorne staring again. Without turning around, he commented.

"Stop it."

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"And the object in your line of sight is one over-watched scientist."

Rodney could hear the frustration in the soldier's voice. "I'm not watching you! I'm looking at the door."

Rodney whirled around, his stool swinging him in a three-sixty as he glanced around the room. "Are you sure there's no one else in here?"

"Look, McKay—Rodney—I'm not staring at you. I'm trying to make a point of not staring at you, since it seems to bother you so much."

He turned, finally facing the major. "Do you know how you just know someone is staring at you? You know that leftover primitive reflex that you're someone's dinner?"

Lorne rose slowly, his easy expression turning a bit harder, as his eyes started to dart around the room. "I swear to you, McKay, I wasn't even looking at you. But if you feel someone staring at you—and I'm not discounting that you do—then that means there's someone else here. Especially if it feels hostile." As he moved closer, still trying to see into the shadows of the darkened lab, Rodney saw him finger his gun.

Every sense Rodney had was on high alert, watching as Lorne slid into the shadows. He wanted to yell and complain that he didn't enjoy playing the bait, but anything he said would be lost to the room, disappearing from the holograph thing in a matter of seconds. So instead, he sat there, eyes darting around as he waited.

After a few moments, Lorne returned, a look of disgust on his face. "I saw someone slipping out the other door, but I didn't want to get lured away from you. I don't know if they were the bait to get me out of the way, or someone looking for an opportunity who ran when they got caught. Doc, this is a bit more serious than a practical joker. I very strongly request that we go see Colonel Sheppard and report this."

"Report what? That I thought I felt someone staring at me and you thought you saw someone who probably has the same right to be here as we do."

Lorne shook his head. "Someone who has every right to be here with nothing malicious on their mind doesn't lurk in the shadows and run when they think someone might see them. I don't know what they wanted, but you said earlier that you were responding to an instinct. Well, my instincts are telling me this isn't fun and games."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. There was no way that he was going to let Lorne know he was worried. "I'm not going to be bullied in my own lab—strange feeling or not."

"I'm not suggesting we let them bully you. I'm suggesting we go report this to Colonel Sheppard. And them I'm suggesting that we turn in for the night and come back when there are more people around whom I trust—like Doctor Zelenka—to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior. If you want to keep working in your room, that's fine, but right now, I'm a bit concerned about your safety. I'm well aware that if someone on the science staff wants to find a creative way to get me out of the picture to get to you, they probably wouldn't have much trouble."

"I trust my staff."

"All of them, Doc? Even the new guys who got here a few weeks ago? Even Kavanaugh?"

Rodney lifted his chin. "All of them. If I didn't, what does that say about me? I picked them—idiots the lot of them."

Lorne ran one hand through his hair. "Look, Rodney, all I know is that someone took advantage of you and left you shivering in a closet in your boxers, unresponsive until Beckett got there. And now there's someone lurking in the labs late at night that is going to a lot of trouble to not get caught. It might not even be one of your staff; most people know you'll be here even this late, and they could easily have come in the same door they darted out of when they saw me coming."

"You're more paranoid than I am—and that's not a compliment."

"Yeah, well, when it comes to the lives of the Geeks of Atlantis, and especially your life, I'd rather go to the paranoid end of the spectrum and be safe, than shrug it off and let something happen to you."

Rodney scowled. "So, what now?"

"I'd like to go find Colonel Sheppard and report in. He might agree with you, Doc, and laugh it off, but right now I feel like someone's plotting ways to plant a knife in my back—real or metaphorical—and that's not really a great way to spend an evening."

"I'd rather work, if it's all the same to you." Seeing Lorne's stubborn expression, he relented. "Fine. But how about we go back to my quarters so I can work while you report in?"

"Deal. What do you need me to carry?"

"I need to upload some documents to the secure server and bring my notes to my quarters. I can access everything from the laptop there. It doesn't involve you touching anything." He said, already saving the work he'd done to his workstation hard-drive before saving a copy to the server.

"Up to you, Doc, just figured I'd offer."

A few moments later and Rodney was ready, complete with an arm-full of papers and science journals.

Lorne made a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating he wanted Rodney to go first.

Rolling his eyes, Rodney snagged the Ancient device from his desk and moved toward the door, his usual pace eating up the space between the main lab and the nearest transporter.

Before he reached his destination, he heard his name and he paused, turning around, spotting one of the scientists running down the hallway from the small, private labs.

"Doctor McKay, do you have a minute?"

Rodney glanced at Lorne, raising an eyebrow.

Lorne watched the other scientist closely, shrugging, but not moving away.

Scowling at the major, McKay nodded his head, gesturing for the man to walk with him. "What's the problem?" he asked, pointing toward the hologram as his question appeared mid-air above the device in his hand.

Lorne stepped up, staying close enough to hear everything being said, and read Rodney's hologram responses.

The scientist glanced at the military man, hesitant. “Um, it’s private. I don’t suppose we could do this without an audience?”

Rodney glanced at him for a long moment before something clicked.

"Is this about the project?"

The scientist offered a terse nod and Rodney turned to Lorne, making sure the man could see the thought transmitter. "Actually, Major, I'm going to insist. This is part of what I'm working on right now and I need to have this conversation in private."

Lorne's eyes narrowed. "No. I'm sorry, and you can feel free to report me if you want, but right now I don't think that's a good idea."

"I am going to insist. Why don't you contact Sheppard right now and have him meet us here? We're out in the open."

"I'm sorry, Doc. I can call Colonel Sheppard to meet us here, but I'm not moving away, and I will follow you if you try to do it yourself. My first duty is to your safety. I swear I won't repeat anything I hear that's of a scientific nature, but I'm not taking any chances here."

"That's fine. I can stand and wait until Sheppard gets here."

The major nodded, then tapped his radio. "Sir, would you mind meeting us down in the hallway, between the labs and the transporter for this section? There's been a bit of an incident I need to report, and Doctor McKay is insisting we do it here. Yes, sir, we'll wait. Lorne out." He looked over at Rodney, his face tired. "Colonel Sheppard is on his way."

"Good." He nodded once at Lorne before glancing to the scientist at his side. "We'll straighten this out in a minute. The simple-minded military grunts don't understand the concept of confidential."

"I understand confidential, McKay, I just place safety above it on the importance scale," Lorne said, his tone unrepentant.

McKay scowled. "Then maybe Atlantis and the SGC is not the best fit for you, Major."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I can keep secrets, and I won't tell anyone what goes on in private meetings. Just because I insist on being present for safety reasons, doesn't mean I plan to blab what I hear all over the city."

"And I insist on being able to hold private meetings with my scientists. You're impeding my ability to do my job—which, if I do recall, you said you would not do."

"I said I would do my best to stay out of your way when I could. Just walking away when I have no idea who was lab-lurking would be irresponsible. I don't know who the enemy is, so right now, other than about four people I'm sure of, everyone on Atlantis falls under the 'suspicious' heading."

Rodney snorted soundlessly, moving a few paces away from Lorne and the waiting scientist before turning back to the major. "You are unbelievable. While I do admit that my health and safety are high on my own list of priorities, this is just taking things too far."

The soldier just cocked his head. "Sorry, Doc. You're one of the most important men on this expedition. That means I'm extra cautious when you're in my care."

Rodney shook his head. "While I agree with you on the first point, your over-industrious nature is not allowing me to do my job. And where the hell is Sheppard?"

Before Lorne could answer, the commander in question strolled around the corner. "Sir." Lorne stood up straighter. "We were just wondering when you would get here."

"About damn time," Rodney said, the words hovering in the air for all to see.

Lorne shot the scientist a small glare. "Sir. Permission to report."

"What the hell is going on here?" Sheppard asked, eyeing the three men, his eyebrow raised. His gazed settled on Rodney even as he spoke to Lorne. "Go ahead, Major."

"Sir, Doctor McKay was working in his lab when he felt someone watching him. I went to investigate, and caught an individual slipping out the back door. I was unable to identify the target, and thought it better to return to the Doctor in case this was a decoy to distract me. After some argument, Doctor McKay agreed to return to his room to work, where it would be more secure. He is now requesting private meetings. I was placed in charge of assuring he was kept free of outside influence, sir, and I believe this is a mistake. I also believe, although I have nothing more to go on than instinct at this point, the person lurking in the lab was not there for innocent purposes."

Sheppard eyed him carefully. "This true, McKay? You giving Lorne a hard time just because you can?"

"Lorne's over-inflated sense of protection is not allowing me to do my job."

"I am doing my best to stay out of Doctor McKay's way, sir, but I will not sacrifice his safety, even if he feels it is over-inflated, unless I'm ordered to. Sir."

Rodney raised his chin, glaring down his nose toward the two military men. "The man has no concept of the meaning of the word confidential. He's your grunt, Sheppard. I thought you of all people would have taught him that."

"I have assured Doctor McKay that I am more than capable of keeping my mouth shut—" Lorne said, only to stop when McKay's thoughts floated over the Ancient device.

"Keeping your mouth shut is not the issue. You not hearing it in the first place is."

The major turned to McKay, his jaw tight. "If I don't talk about it to anyone, then it doesn't matter if I heard it or not."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Of course it matters."

"How am I supposed to make sure no one gives you an order against your will, if you insist on private meetings? The person you're talking to might be harmless, but someone else could use the opportunity to get close enough to take advantage of you. I'm sorry, but I'm going to insist unless ordered otherwise, and then I want it understood that it would be under extreme protest."

"Gentlemen!" Sheppard finally said, glaring at the two arguing men. He paused, waiting several moments to make sure he had their attention. "McKay, can't this wait until later, until we get things back to normal?"

"No."

"McKay—" Sheppard began, only to be cut off by the scientist.

"Look, there are only a handful of my staff that have the ATA gene naturally. Those are the only ones you should be keeping an eye on. The majority of my staff is perfectly safe. Non-ATA-gened people can't order me to do anything I don't want to do."

Rodney pointed to the scientist standing next to him. "If you're so concerned about him, why don't you interrogate him, call Carson, and get his medical records? That'll tell you in a very short amount of time whether or not he's safe for me to be around."

"That's not the point. Just because the person you're talking to doesn't have it, doesn't mean you should be careless."

"Do you think I'm dumb, Major, because it certainly sounds like it," Rodney said, scowling. "I can't live the rest of my life in a bubble just because Major Paranoia has unresolved issues."

"It's not the rest of your life, McKay," Sheppard cut in. "It's just until Doctor Beckett reverses the changes to your DNA."

"If he fixes it, which at this point and from what I've read, is close to impossible. Let's not get started on his voodoo medical practices. Right now, I need to have a private conversation with one of my scientists about a very important and brilliant project."

"He will fix it." Sheppard sighed. "And see, that right there, makes no sense. I've never heard you refer to anyone's work but your own as brilliant."

"I'm working on the project, too," Rodney commented, rolling his eyes. "Call off your dogs. This is ridiculous."

Lorne flushed, but wasn't ready to back down. He turned to Sheppard, fixing him with an intense glare. "You told me to ensure he was kept free of outside influences, sir. How am I supposed to do that if I'm told to go play solitaire or stand in a corner while he talks quietly with his people where I can't hear them?"

"It's because I trust my staff, Major," Rodney said.

"That's great, Doc, but right now, there's only a handful of people I trust and he's not on that list."

Sheppard shook his head. "You two are better than a movie. All right, I'm going to call Carson. If Doctor—" He looked at the scientist, one eyebrow up.

“Doctor Lance Kramer, at your service. And I don’t have the ATA gene, much to my distress.” The scientist gave a slight bow.

Sheppard nodded. “If Doctor Kramer checks out with Carson, I see no reason why you can’t chat slightly apart, but staying in view at all times. Okay?”

Lorne muttered darkly, but didn’t say anything loud enough for Rodney to catch.

"Fine." Rodney gestured with the hand that was still clutching the Ancient device. "Get on with it already."

Sheppard glanced between the two men, finally turning to Lorne. "Major, why don't you cut out for the night? I'll take care of this and stick with him tonight."

His posture becoming even more stiff, Lorne didn't look happy. "Are you relieving me of my assignment, sir?"

"No. We're cutting back on missions so I can take up some of the slack. Take the night off. Relax. It looks like you could use it."

After a brief hesitation, Lorne nodded. "If you say so, sir. When would you like me to report back?"

"Tomorrow morning. We'll work out a better schedule then."

"Yes, sir. Doctor McKay." With a small salute to Sheppard, and another to Rodney, he turned and left.

McKay watched him leave before he turned to the Colonel. "This still doesn't solve my current problem," he said, gesturing toward the waiting Kramer.

With a nod, Sheppard tapped his radio, opening a channel. "Sheppard to Beckett, I have a favor to ask. I need you to check and verify that Doctor Lance Kramer, one of the science staff, doesn't have the ATA gene." He paused for a few minutes, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, before responding again. "Great. Thanks." He clicked off his radio before turning back. "All right, Doctor Kramer checks out."

"So can I actually work now?"

"Lorne was just doing his job McKay, give him a break. If you want, you can go ahead and have your meeting. Afterwards, you and I can go have a chat."

"Fine, whatever," he commented, gesturing to Kramer to follow him down the corridor. Once they were a sufficient distance away, Rodney turned his back to Sheppard, focusing his attention on the scientist. "Sorry about that. They're a little…over-protective."

"Quite all right. They have every right to be. You will not speak of this conversation to anyone else, do you understand?" He wore a polite smile as he said it.

"Of course. It's confidential. I do know the definition," he said, immediately defensive.

"Of course you do, Doctor McKay. I merely wanted to suggest that instead of being forced to create files on the secure server, you give me your password, and let me create the folder."

Rodney tilted his head. "Why?" he finally asked, wanting to agree, but something was holding him back.

The polite smile stayed on his face, for the benefit of the watching soldier. His eyes, however, hardened a bit. "Because I told you to give it to me, Doctor."

"Oh," Rodney paused, the nod slow in coming. "Of course. Give me your pad."

He handed one over, along with a pen. "Should anyone ask what we talked about, you'll tell them I just wanted you to check some equations, and I was shy about letting anyone else see them, as I was uncertain as to their validity. I think that will worry them less, don't you?"

Rodney nodded, grabbing the pad and pen from the scientist as he began to scribble down his fifteen digit alphanumeric password. "Yes, yes. Much less." He handed back the items, cocking his head to the side. "Did you have any other questions?"

"I don't think so. We'll chat again later. Don't forget, when I need to speak with you, you'll find a way to set aside your guard dog for a few moments. Have a pleasant evening." Kramer turned and walked down the hall, not looking back.

Rodney watched him walk away for a few moments before turning and striding back to where Sheppard was waiting, one shoulder leaning against the wall. It was amazing that the man could manage to slump and still be upright at the same time.

"Got everything straightened out?"

"As much as I could in a two minute conversation, yes."

"You could have taken longer. I wouldn't have minded." Sheppard straightened up from the wall. "Anything earth-shattering decided?"

Rodney narrowed his eyes at the man. "I could feel you glaring down the hallway. It was hard to ignore, and it's actually none of your business. But if you must know the basics, he had some questions about the equations for the project we're working on."

"Sounds fascinating. So where to now? Lorne said you were heading back to your quarters when Kramer caught up with you."

"Some of us still have work to do, Colonel. And what I still don't understand is why a two-minute conversation with one of my ATA-gene-less scientists had to become a twenty-minute production—which was a huge waste of my valuable time."

"In this case I agree with Lorne. It doesn't hurt to take a few extra minutes to be careful if it ensures your safety. It's getting late, Rodney, but if you need to work, I'm sure you can do it in your quarters. You can stay up all night if you want to, but I do need to get some sleep at some point. Not all of us run on caffeine fumes."

"You can sleep. I’m not preventing you from doing that. And actually, I don't need a babysitter." Rodney turned, pulling his papers closer to his chest before he moved to the transporter alcove. Waving a hand in front of the panel, the doors slid open and Sheppard followed him in. "You know, it's bad enough that Lorne dragged me away from my lab just because he's afraid of shadows."

"He's doing his job," Sheppard repeated. "And you don't need a babysitter, no, but a little companionship is nice. We haven't really chatted since that whole Maniac Computer AI Gone Wrong thing." Rodney could hear the capital letters in John's voice.

Rolling his eyes, he tugged his paperwork closer to his chest as they stepped out into the hallway. "Now, while I'm all for protecting my very valuable brain, aren't you taking this to an extreme?"

"I'd rather be a little over-paranoid and make sure nothing happens, than let security lapse and regret it later."

"And aren't we a little late for that?"

His gaze sharpening, Sheppard looked at him closely. "It was a stupid prank, but it could have been worse. The guard is to make sure it doesn't go any further. Has anyone else tried to hassle you?"

"Do you think I'd be complaining this much if they had?" He rolled his eyes again.

"Then think of this as a preventative measure. If someone with the gene is around to counter any orders, you won't have to worry about anything else happening."

"So what is it with Ronon and Teyla, then?"

"You're part of the team. They might not be able to counter orders, but they can lend a hand if anything gets out of hand. And this isn't exactly an every-day situation. The three of us are taking turns keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't go nuts and try to blow up the city or something." John grinned at him.

"As if." The doors to his quarters slid open and they walked in, Rodney heading directly for his laptop. Flipping up the cover, he powered it up, waiting for it to log into the system. "And anyway, don't you have something better to be doing? I thought you were watching a movie."

Flopping down on to the cot Lorne had used, John leaned back on his elbows and kicked off his shoes. "I can watch a movie any time."

"But you delight in driving me crazy as often as you can, is that it?" He hated this. It was worse than being in prison—not that he'd know, really, since he had no firsthand experience.

"I'm not trying to drive you crazy for once. I'm not comfortable leaving you vulnerable to attack, even if I do trust the personnel on base. That little prank demonstrated that someone, at least, thinks it's funny to take advantage of a bad situation. I'm not willing to let it go any further."

"So, what? You're going to have someone goading my every step until Carson finishes his voodoo?"

"Is it really all that bad to have some company? Especially since you know it's only temporary and will keep you safe?"

"Yes. No. Yes. Oh, I don't know." He paused, letting out a breath.

Shaking his head with a smile, Sheppard leaned back fully on the bed. "So, don't worry about it. Work on whatever you need to, and I won't bother you unless you actually want to talk. This isn't supposed to be like punishment you know."

"Could have fooled me."

"We just want to protect you. Is it so hard to believe that in the year and a half we've been here, you actually managed to make a few friends?"

Rodney stared at Sheppard for a long moment before turning back to his computer, albeit briefly. "I have work to do."

"That's fine. I told Atlantis not to open the door until I ask her to, so don't try to give me the slip while I'm sleeping." The soldier shifted on the bed, getting into a comfortable position.

"You know, I could have done the same thing. I have the same gene you know."

"Atlantis likes me better." From where he was sitting, Rodney could see the smirk hovering around Sheppard's lips.

"Anything in a dress likes you better. Who are we kidding?"

"You have a really disturbing fascination with my love life."

"It's not my fault. You…" He waved  his hand in the air. "You flaunt it with your come-hither hip-swing, making promises you can't keep…"

Sheppard sat up, an incredulous look on his face. "My what?"

"Oh, nevermind. This conversation in pointless. Are you even going to let me work?"

"You're the one who's taken a sudden interest in my hips. And what do you mean making promises I can't keep?"

Rodney sighed. "Can we just move on? While this might seem like one big joke to you, some of us actually need to get some work done before the city blows itself up."

"I'm not the one who brought it up." Sheppard grumbled, lying back down.

McKay waved his hand, suddenly exhausted. "Look just…just forget I said anything, okay?"

Sheppard didn't sit back up, but raised his hand and imitated Rodney's dismissive hand gesture. "Are you going to work so I can sleep, or did you want to keep talking?"

"Neither, actually," he said, scowling at the other man as he ducked into the bathroom.

He heard a snort from the cot, but Sheppard didn't say anything else.

Rodney took a few minutes to get himself ready for bed, stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers. Padding barefoot across the room, he yanked back the blankets on his bed before turning to the desk. He could feel Sheppard's eyes on him as he moved around the room, shutting down laptops, shuffling through paperwork.

"Calling it a night?"

"Is that what it looks like?"

Sheppard opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then seemed to think better of it. With a quiet sigh, he wiggled a bit in the bed to get comfortable. "Good night then, Rodney."

"Night," Rodney said, the word floating lazily in the air. He flipped through a few more pages before he put them down. He was restless yet exhausted. He wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over his head and then when he woke up tomorrow morning this whole nightmare would be over.

He sighed, his eyes settling on a half-asleep Sheppard.

If only his life could be so easy.

***

 

Carson prepped his office, making sure he had everything he needed. They had isolated the chemical that had taken Rodney’s voice, and given it to several of the mice, with the same effect. After several days of work, he had found an antidote and refined it to the point where none of the mice he gave it to seemed to have any adverse reactions.

Time for a human trial.

Elizabeth had been briefed this morning, and had given him the okay to proceed with Rodney's permission. She—along with Teyla and Ronon who had somehow managed to be present—were heading down to be moral support for the actual event.

He knew Major Lorne had found a device that let Rodney communicate a bit easier, but even that had to be frustrating. He hadn’t seen much of Rodney in days, but he was getting reports that his friend was getting more and more irritable. Hopefully, this would help a bit.

Carson sat down to wait for his patient to arrive, sipping at a cup of tea. He skimmed the reports Teyla, Ronon, Colonel Sheppard, and Major Lorne had been giving him on Rodney's state of mind with a sigh. Moving to the now fully translated database they had downloaded from the genetics lab, he reflected that at least they were making progress. If this worked today, he could turn his attention to the bigger problem.

Rodney stormed in a few minutes later with Colonel Sheppard following a few paces behind. He came to a grinding halt in front of Carson, the small Ancient device the scientist had been carrying with him bouncing on his desk a second later.

"This had better be good and it better work because I have an entire staff of scientists who are desperately in need of a good dressing down."

The words floated above the device and Carson knew that this was what was allowing Rodney to talk to everyone. It was a little strange to see his friend's comments, his words, hovering in mid-air.

Carson tore his eyes away from the fascinating bit of technology. "We've tried it on several of the lab mice who were given the same chemical and had pretty good success. I din'na want to get your hopes up too far, as there is always the possibility of complications, but I hope this will solve at least one problem."

"And lab mice spoke to you the last time, when exactly?"

"I can wait and do more experimentation if that's what you want. Honestly, the only reason I'm rushing this is because I know how hard it is for you to be without your voice."

"And if it makes things worse?" Rodney stood over him, his arms crossed over his chest. Sheppard was obviously biting his tongue as he stood to the side, observing their conversation.

"Can it get any worse? I'm dealing strictly with the chemical used to paralyze your vocal cords right now, which is separate from the other changes made to your DNA. This won't have any effect on that at all, but it is up to you. While I've had some success, I wouldn't be uncomfortable with another few weeks of trial work."

"Weeks? We're talking weeks?" Rodney scowled and turned, moving several paces away from Carson.

"Rodney, Beckett is doing his best," Sheppard said, his tone cautious.

McKay whirled around angrily, his words hovering over the device on Carson's desk. "We're talking an eternity here. In a few weeks we could be dead from a Wraith attack or an invasion or something else."

"Which is why I offered to try it now. The sooner we take care of this problem, the sooner I can start working on reversing the DNA changes." Carson sipped at his tea, and kept his face carefully neutral.

"So just because the mice can squeak at you again we're good to go?"

"They can squeak again, and they didn't keel over dead. That second part is what prompted me to offer it to you now."

"Side-effects?"

"We observed a bit of disorientation, but in all the subjects it passed within about ten minutes. Given the discomfort the original chemical caused, I can't discount that the antidote won't hurt as well. Unfortunately, as you pointed out, my mice can't talk, and you're the only human I can test it on."

"Wonderful." The muscles in Rodney's jaw tensed and he turned on his heel again, heading toward the door.

"Rodney, even with more trials, I can't guarantee I'll be able to offer you any better odds, and you'll have waited weeks for potentially nothing. This is experimental medicine, yes, but I would'na have even asked you to come down today if I wasn't fairly confident of the outcome."

McKay stopped just before he reached the doors, just out of range of the sensors that would make the panels slide open, his back to both men, his body radiating anger and uncertainty.

Carson stayed seated, knowing his friend would have to make this decision on his own and that he wouldn't welcome any attempt at sympathy right now. "It might not be comfortable, but I don't think it can make it any worse. So the worst-case scenario at the moment is that we try it, it's painful and it doesn't work. But that also means I have a bit more information to work with, so with the next try, the odds of success go way up. The best-case scenario is that there is only a bit of discomfort, and you get your voice back today."

Rodney didn't move, not even acknowledging the words Carson spoke. Sheppard shifted on his feet and rubbed a hand over his face.

Carson waited, watching his friend carefully, sure there was a debate raging in the scientist's head. Knowing Rodney, it wouldn't take long for him to come to a decision, one way or the other.

Sheppard finally moved to Beckett's desk, leaning a hip against the side. "How sure are you?" he asked quietly.

"As sure as I can be without the ability to do any human trials."

Sheppard sighed and glanced toward McKay who had yet to move. "He's worried about this. More than he wants to admit."

"I don't blame him. I'm worried too. But that aside, I would'na suggest a course of treatment unless I was reasonably sure of the outcome. There is always a risk, but I've done my best to compensate for all the ones I can think of."

"I know that and I know he does. This past week has been…difficult for everyone, but the hardest on McKay."

"Aye. This is why I want to get this problem taken care of, so I can devote my attention to fixing the rest of it. I've had my assistants doing analysis for me, so I'll be able to start right away, but I want to get this taken care of first."

Sheppard sighed again, a rueful expression on his face, his voice dropping down even further. "Honestly, giving him the ability to yell at people vocally might not be a good thing."

Carson chuckled softly. "Been a bit of a beast lately, has he? This might actually help then, if it works. The ability to berate his 'minions' will go a long way to improving his mood."

"Doubtful. Right now the scientists aren't his biggest irritant." Sheppard paused again, his face lighting up briefly as he remembered something. "Oh, and thanks for your help in identifying the gene carriers."

"He's just frustrated, and takin' it out on whomever is most handy." Carson continued to watch Rodney out of the corner of his eye, noting that he was pacing back and forth, waving his hands a bit as he mentally weighed the options. "And you're most welcome. Let me know if you need anyone else checked."

Elizabeth chose that moment to enter, flanked by Ronon and Teyla. "Carson, how did it go?"

"We have'na tried it yet. I gave Rodney the information, but it's up to him to decide if he wants to move ahead with the trial." Rodney hadn't acknowledged their arrival, so Carson shifted to continue to watch him and talk to everyone else at the same time.

"I thought he'd jump at the chance to get his voice back," Elizabeth said, her eyes drifting to McKay.

"It's not that simple. He wants his voice back, aye, but he also knows we've only been able to test the antidote on mice. I believe he's weighing the benefits against all the possible things that could go wrong, and deciding whether or not it's worth it. I won't force the decision on him either way."

The device on top of Carson's desk flared to life again. "I might be mute, but I don't have a problem with my hearing."

Carson started, since Rodney was still facing the wall, not bothering to turn around. "I never said you did. I haven'a said anything I wouldn't want you to hear."

"Rodney," Elizabeth said, "Carson is very confident that this procedure will work. He wouldn't have mentioned anything unless he believed it would help you."

McKay turned, his jaw set in an angry expression. "He's only tried it on mice. It could kill me or do something worse."

Carson rose and paced forward, putting one hand on Rodney's shoulder. "If I thought that was a possibility, we would'na be having this conversation. I don't want to put you at risk, Rodney. It will only take a few seconds to give you the inoculation. Then I'd like to keep you here for thirty minutes for observation. Barring any complications, you'll be free to go after that."

"And with complications?" Sheppard asked the question and Carson could feel the muscles in Rodney's shoulder tense even more under his hand.

Carson didn't break eye contact with Rodney as he responded. "Worst case scenario would probably be I keep him through the night. The antidote is designed to interact with a certain set of muscles, and only in the presence of a specific chemical marker. At worst there will be pain for a bit, and he'll probably have a bit of a sore throat. In fact, even if this works beautifully, odds are good his throat will be sore, and his voice raspy for a few days while he regains use of it."

McKay dropped his eyes, rubbing a hand roughly over his face.

"Doctor Beckett only wishes to help you," Teyla said kindly, moving a few steps closer.

"Rodney, none of the subjects exhibited any symptoms past the ten-minute mark, and we've had them under observation for the past several days. Granted, I can't ask them questions about how they're feeling, but I can make a few educated guesses, and I believe this will work." Stepping back, Carson allowed Teyla to take his place next to the scientist.

"Look, this is my life we're talking about here and I’m not ready to become yet another test subject just because he thinks it might work. The last time I checked I wasn't a mouse," Rodney replied, his words floating over the Ancient device still in the middle of Beckett's desk.

"No one is suggesting that." Elizabeth moved to his other side, laying one hand on his arm. "If you aren't comfortable with the risk right now, we can have Carson continue to refine his antidote."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "And how long will that take?"

Carson responded from where he had moved back to his desk. "As I said earlier, I could work for another few weeks on it. Although your main objection, that we've only tried it on the mice, won't change. Unfortunately there is'na anything I can do about that."

"Fine," McKay finally said, sighing silently.

"I don't want to force you into anything. If you want me to take longer to refine this, I will."

"It's up to you, McKay," Sheppard said quietly. "I know it seems like we're pushing you into it, but Carson's right. This is a great first step."

"We will support whatever decision you make." Teyla smiled, her eyes warm.

"Let's just get this over with already."

Carson shifted, gesturing towards a nearby bed. "All right, if you're sure, you can have a seat, then, and we can get started."

Rodney hesitated for a moment before nodding. He moved to Beckett's desk and grabbed the Ancient translator device, before settling onto the bed Carson had indicated. He eyed the group of people hovering around for a long moment, but didn't say anything.

Carson followed the look, and turned his own stare on the gathered crowd. "All right, if the rest of you could wait outside, I'll let you know when you can come back in."

"We'd rather stay if that's all right with McKay," Sheppard said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Looking at Rodney, Carson raised an eyebrow in inquiry, and lowered his voice so it wouldn't carry beyond the row of them by the bed. "It's up to you, my friend. I'll have them leave if you don't want them here, but they can stay if you do."

McKay shrugged, twirling the device in his hands.

Carson moved to block his view of the others, and their view of his communication device, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. "I don't want this to be harder than it has to be. What are you most comfortable with?"

There was a long pause before words floated in the air between them. "Can we just get this over with already?"

Stepping back, Carson got what he needed and prepped Rodney's arm. Reaching for the needle, he hesitated again. "Are you ready?"

Rodney sighed silently, his body slumping as he released the long breath of air. Sticking his right arm toward Carson, his left dropped the Ancient device on the bedside table.

Carson closed his eyes briefly, offering a brief prayer that this would work without any problems. He swiftly gave Rodney the shot, with a practiced ease and light touch. "All right, you should start feeling something in about a minute."

Rodney raised an eyebrow, his words floating in the air a few feet away. "That's it?"

"That's it."

Rodney scowled at him, but didn't comment, instead sitting stiller than he ever had before, his hands hanging loosely in his lap.

Carson pulled a chair close to the bed, sitting down while carefully watching his patient. "If you start to feel lightheaded or any pain, feel free to lie down."

Rodney nodded, closing his eyes, his head down.

Standing again, Carson walked over to a small table nearby, and poured a glass of water. He exchanged glanced with the people standing by, noting that Lorne had also arrived—very quietly. Walking back over, he touched Rodney's arm lightly. "Thirsty?"

A quick headshake was his only answer as Rodney's hands clenched into fists.

Recognizing the signs his friend was in pain, all Carson could really do was sit back down and watch anxiously. He kept an eye on his watch, noting when the five-minute mark passed, which was when half the mice they had tested had started to show signs of improvement.

Rodney swayed a little, his face paled as his hand reached out to grab the edge of the bed, latching on tightly. He had yet to open his eyes, instead closing them even tighter than before.

Sheppard moved forward, grabbing a shoulder. "Rodney!"

Carson stood again, gently pushing until Rodney was on his back. If the pain persisted to fifteen minutes, he would get the pain medications and monitors. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. "We were expecting that there might be some pain."

Rodney allowed Carson to move him, finally settling on his side, slightly curled up, his breath a little faster and shallower than normal.

"Carson?" This time it was Elizabeth, her voice tight with worry. Sheppard had moved around to the other side of the bed. Teyla had followed, with Ronon standing behind her shoulder. She placed a hand on McKay's ankle, squeezing gently.

Carson shook his head, all his attention focused on Rodney. "We're still in the window of time I knew there could be pain. I can'na give him anything until we pass that."

Rodney groaned, pulling everyone's attention to him. He'd turned on his side, knees pulled up toward his chest. It looked like he was trying to curl up on himself on the bed.

Carson clenched his fists hard—Rodney had actually made a noise. "I know it hurts. Give it a few more minutes, try to ride it, and if it does'na get better soon, I'll start you on pain killers."

McKay tried to nod, but ended up curling even more, face pressed into the pillow.

"Doc?" Sheppard asked. His face was filled with concern and worry as he stepped even closer to the bed. Another inch and Carson swore the man would be on the bed.

"I was expecting this. The test subjects experienced discomfort for up to ten minutes after the inoculation. I'm giving him fifteen before I start adding more drugs to the mix." Carson grabbed a washcloth from a nearby bed, getting it damp in the glass of water he had discarded earlier. Carefully, he used it to wipe Rodney's brow, clearing away the sweat that had appeared there.

"Hurts." The single word, barely a whisper, drew everyone's attention. Two pain-filled eyes stared up at Beckett.

Carson forced a small smile. "I know it does lad, I'm afraid that couldn't be avoided. But Rodney, you're speaking again. It worked."

McKay groaned again in response. Teyla gripped Rodney's ankle a little tighter.

Carson glanced at his watch. They had passed the ten-minute mark. The pain should start to pass now. Please let the pain start to pass now. Using his damp washcloth, he wiped Rodney's brow again.

"How long are you going to make him lie there suffering?" Sheppard hissed the question through clenched teeth. Elizabeth was watching with wide eyes, her mouth a thin, tight line.

Carson kept his eyes on Rodney as he spoke, knowing he would lose what little control he had if he looked Sheppard in the eye. "I don't suppose you remember what happened when we gave him too many medications back in that bloody hole? Give the antidote time to work. Five more minutes. I have pain medication standing by, but give it a little more time without adding more drugs and potentially causing complications."

"It's hard to forget," Sheppard finally commented.

"I know you want to help, but if this doesn't get better in a few minutes, I'll give him something. In that case, I'll need all of you to at the very least back off a bit. I'm going to need room to work." Carson continued to try and soothe his shaking friend, noting that his own hands weren't exactly steady.

The next few minutes passed in near silence, everyone watching and waiting. McKay was huddled on the bed, his face clearly radiating his pain. His shirt was damp, some of the sweat marring his expedition jacket. He whimpered; the small sound even worse than the shouts of pain he'd released back on the planet.

Carson knelt down, bringing his face into Rodney's field of vision. "Rodney, I need to know if the pain is getting better or worse, or still the same. If it's not getting better, I'm going to give you something now."

The answer was slow in coming, but one Carson didn't want to hear. "Same."

"Bloody hell." He rose, moving to his desk, where he had a syringe ready to go. Without another word, he walked back over to his patient's side, gently pulling his arm out from where it was wrapped around his body. As quickly as he could, he injected the medicine into his bloodstream.

It didn't take long before McKay slumped, his muscles relaxing into the mattress. A near silent sob of "Oh, God," his only response.

"It's okay, lad. I'm here. We're going to get this all fixed up. I'd like to start an IV and draw some blood if you'll let me. Right now all the IV will hold is saline, but once the painkiller starts to wear off, if you're still experiencing pain that will be the best way to get the smallest possible dose that will help in you quickly."

Rodney nodded, face still pressed into the pillow, the tension slowing releasing.

"Let's get you on your back then." He helped Rodney roll onto his back, Sheppard lending a hand. The equipment to start the IV and draw blood were both near at hand, and he had both done quickly. "All right, lay back and relax for a bit. Don't try to talk too much, your throat will probably be raw and sore for a while."

He nodded, his glazed eyes watching Beckett work.

Teyla and Sheppard stepped back a few feet to allow Carson better access to McKay.

"See, McKay," Sheppard said. "We knew Beckett would get your voice back. Now, all you have to do is relax and let him fuss over you."

Beckett turned to the solider. "Colonel, could you poke your head out and ask Anne to come in here?"

Sheppard turned, but Lorne was already moving, heading down to Anne's station. He returned less than a minute later with the nurse in tow.

“You needed me, Doctor?” Anne’s eyes flicked to Rodney.

“Aye, lass, the antidote is allowing him to speak again, but there was quite a bit of pain. I have him on a low dose of morphine that should start to wear off in about a half-hour. Stay with him, and if he experiences any discomfort, go ahead and switch out the saline for a morphine drip. I’ve already marked the dosage on his chart if you need it. I want to get over to the lab to analyze his blood sample, see if I can pinpoint what’s going on.”

"Of course. Anything else?" she asked, moving to McKay's side. Her hand rested briefly on the scientist's arm before she took the chart from Beckett.

Carson glanced at the crowd hovering nearby and pitched his voice to carry to them. "I don't think you'll be able to clear them out easily without reason, but if they get in the way, you have permission to toss them out on my authority."

The corner of Anne's mouth twitched. "I'll keep that in mind."

Annoyance filtered quickly across Sheppard's face, but it vanished easily, replaced by his usual lazy smile. "I need to take care of a few things, but I'll be back later. Major Lorne will be staying until then."

His gaze flicked across the others standing there. "As long as he doesn't make himself a pain in the arse, he's welcome to stay. What about the rest of you?" Carson offered a small smile to Lorne, hoping the man knew part of this was a need to relieve a little stress.

"I have to get back to my office, but I expect you to keep me informed," Elizabeth said to Carson. She stepped closer to the bed, patting McKay's ankle before she turned to move toward the door. "Get better, Rodney. I'll be back to check on you later."

"Of course." He looked back down at Rodney, who's eyes were a bit glazed. "I need to go run some tests lad. Major Lorne, Anne, and I'd imagine Teyla and Ronon, will be here with you for a bit. If you need anything, tell Anne."

"We will sit with him," Teyla said, already moving to one of the bedside chairs.

He nodded, shared a look with Anne, and with a brief final squeeze to Rodney's arm started for the lab, blood samples in tow.

***

Some days Rodney loved Anne Matthews. Today was one of those days. Although, it may have something to do with the fact that she had taken pity on him and medicated him when the initial dose Carson had given him wore off.

The pain and the burning were dulled, allowing him to float nearly pain-free, although the nasal cannula felt like it was drying out his nose.

He didn't fight her when she quickly and efficiently stripped him, putting a set of white infirmary scrubs in place of his sweat soaked uniform.

Lorne was near—so were Ronon and Teyla—but right now Rodney didn't care. Nothing hurt.

"Hey, Doc, how ya feeling?" It was almost funny, to hear the big, bad soldier sounding so tentative.

He whispered his response, his throat flaring a little at the effort. "Drugged."

"Yeah, I can see that. You can take a nap if you want. Nurse Matthews and I will sit here and keep watch, okay?"

"Not tired," he protested, wincing a little. He rubbed at his nose, his fingers playing with the tubing. "Just drugged."

Anne batted his hands away. "You shouldn't fiddle with that. Those are there for a reason. And you shouldn't be talking yet." She placed the Ancient device he had been using to communicate in his hand. "I know you want to use your voice, but if you want to do much more than say one or two words right now, it might be better for you to use the Ancient device, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his hand, staring at the small device. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on it, tried to throw some words at it, but the stupid device ended up floating gibberish in the air instead.

Anne chuckled lightly. "It's the morphine doing that. Doctor Beckett has you on a very low dose because he knows how you react to it, but it's still affecting you. Why don't you just try to relax instead?"

Relax. He could do that. Wait, he was doing that already, wasn't he?

He glanced at Anne briefly before shifting his gaze to Lorne. Both of them looked amused. That was good, right? But what was so funny? And where were Ronon and Teyla? McKay's forehead furrowed as he tried to figure it out. He thought they'd stayed with him.

"Conon and Xena?" Wait. That hadn't come out right.

Anne laughed lightly. "Ronon and Teyla stepped out to get some lunch. They'll be back in a little while."

"Oh."

His nose twitched and he raised his arm, the IV in the back of his hand tugging a little. He ignored it and tried to rub at his nose again, but discovered the cannula in his way.

Anne gently reached over and moved his hand back to his side. "The last dose I gave you will start to wear off pretty soon, Doctor McKay. Hopefully this time the pain will have eased off on its own."

He scowled, sighing when she wouldn't let him do what he wanted. It was his body and he didn't like when people stuck things in it. Aliens always wanted to do that. Maybe that was the problem.

He looked at Lorne again, narrowing his eyes.

The soldier blinked. "Hey, Doc. I don't think I like that look. That's the 'you did something stupid and now I'm going to get revenge' look. I swear, whatever it was, I didn't do it."

It sounded like Lorne. The man had been trailing behind him for days now. It's not like something could have happened to Lorne without him knowing about it. Unless he was an alien, too.

"Doc?" Lorne stood up, and got right in his face. He seemed to be looking for something. "Man, your eyes are totally blown out. You really don't react well to morphine, do you?"

Rodney shook his head. No, Lorne had it wrong. Him and morphine were friends, like they were right now. He liked morphine. It was good.

"Yeah, just hang in there, okay? It will start to wear off pretty soon."

Nodding, he relaxed against the pillows, his fingers plucking away at the edge of the blanket. He picked up the small device he was still hanging onto, staring at it, twirling it in his fingers, nearly dropping it a few times, but he'd managed to stop it from tumbling. The design was typical Ancient. He swore Frank Lloyd Wright had to have been an Ancient in another lifetime.

His words floated above it.

He smiled up at Lorne, looking through the 'Os'.

Lorne's lips were twitching, and he heard a female snicker from the other side of the bed. "Ah, I totally agree with you there, Doc. Very cool."

"Where's…Carson?"

It was very cool. It even put in the dots when he was thinking of the sheepshearer's name.

Oh, crap. That popped up too.

A strange noise escaped from Lorne, which sounded suspiciously like a giggle. "Carson...Doctor Beckett is doing your blood work. He'll be back in a little while to check on you."

Rodney scowled in Lorne's direction. "Voodoo again?"

Unfortunately, Carson walked in just in time to see those words before they disappeared. With an exaggerated sigh, the doctor walked over. "Disparaging my profession again Rodney? Well, I suppose you aren't interested in the results of the blood work I just did, then, are you?"

"Depends," he said, the words floating in the air. Cause if Carson told him that the vampires in the back wanted more he wasn't sure that was good news or not. Maybe if he said that they never needed to draw blood again, then that would be good news.

And wow, he thought, watching the words pile up as the thoughts ran through his head.

It never used to work like this, he thought vaguely, remembering that he used to have far more control over this thing. At least, he thought he did.

Carson actually laughed, and patted his hand. "The vampires are satisfied for now, lad. Your results came back clean. The chemical that was causing the problems has been neutralized. The pain was a bit more intense than expected, but it should start to fade fairly quickly. If it is'na too bad as the morphine wears off, I'd like to let it work its way out of your system. Although we can give you one more small dose if you need it."

Rodney nodded, relived that he'd been able to keep the vampires at bay. Part of him was insulted that Carson laughed, but it was good to see him smile. He didn't do it that often anymore.

Oh. He thought, glancing up. He had to stop thinking.

Carson smiled at him and patted his hand, although his eyes were still sad. "I appreciate the thought, lad." He pulled an object out of his pocket and handed it to Rodney. It looked like a brightly-colored wooden knot. It was fascinating. "I've brought you something to occupy your mind while the morphine wears off. I know you dislike being bored."

Rodney's eyes widened as he took it from Carson's hands. He had one of these when he was a kid, but Jeanie had stolen it from him.

"What is that?" Lorne was looking closely at the object, and reached out like he was going to touch it.

Rodney pulled it away from the other man, scowling. "Mine," he whispered, but continued silently when his throat twanged. "Carson gave it to me."

Lorne pulled his hand back. "Sorry, Doc. I wasn't going to take it. I just wanted to see it."

Carson chuckled. “It’s a puzzle, Evan. Last time the Daedalus re-stocked us, I had them add a variety of brain-teaser puzzles to my invoice. Patients who are stuck here for a while generally recover faster and better if they have something interesting to occupy their minds. I figured Rodney would enjoy working on one while he came down off the morphine.”

Lorne chuckled. "I don't know, Doc, he's pretty entertaining right now."

"Aye, but this will entertain him. If you're really that desperate for entertainment, I can go get you a puzzle too." Carson smirked a little and then faced Rodney again. "If you finish that one and want another, just let me know."

Rodney glanced up, already a few steps into the puzzle, nodding his head. "Won't take long," he whispered, wincing a little.

"I'm sure. Just don't forget, once you get it apart, you need to put it back together again for the next patient."

Rodney shook his head. "Your job."

Carson grinned. "Nope, that's part of the puzzle. You might be able to get it apart, but half the challenge is figuring out how to get it back together again."

"No fair," he said, the Ancient device sitting silently somewhere on the infirmary bed, his concentration firmly fixed on the toy in his hands. Talking hurt, but at least now they couldn't read his thoughts.

Carson gave him a satisfied smile. "Consider it part of the experience."

Rodney huffed, but focused on the knot, his mind spinning but not as quickly as it normally did. It was frustrating.

Anne, who had walked away at some point, came back over. Carson caught her eye. "Thanks, luv. Mind staying here a bit longer? I have a few things I need to take care of. Call me when the morphine starts to wear off."

She nodded. “Sure thing. I don’t mind at all.”

Rodney glanced up, just as Carson turned to walk away. "Where are you going?" he asked, trying to raise his voice, the last word ending with a groan.

Carson turned back around, stepping back to the bed. "Not far. I need to check up on a few things, but I'll be back. Do you need anything?"

"He's creepy," he whispered, his eyes snapping to look at Lorne before returning to Carson. "Keeps…staring."

Carson leaned in, his voice falling into a stage whisper. "I think he wants to play with your toy when you're done with it. He seems quite taken with it."

Rodney's eyes widened as he pulled it toward his chest. "It's mine."

"Don't worry, he knows better than to try and take it before you're finished with it. If he tries anything Nurse Matthews will stick him with a needle."

Glancing between Carson and Anne, he nodded slowly. "Can I go now, too?"

Shaking his head, the doctor patted his arm. "Not quite yet. I need you to stay here for a bit longer. You have your puzzle to finish solving too, remember. You can't take it out of the infirmary."

"But I was working." That almost sounded whiney, he realized, frowning a little. He didn't think it was possible for him to whine and whisper at the same time.

"Aye, and we'll get you back to it quick as possible. Right now, though, you have to stay here a wee bit longer. You still have morphine in your system, and once that wears off, we need to see how the pain is. If it's gone, or has subsided to a level manageable by a less potent painkiller, I'll let you go then."

Rodney sighed, letting his head drop back against the pillow. "Fine," he mumbled, closing his eyes, whatever interest he had in the puzzle lost. There were important things he had to do.

"The trade off for spending a little time here with me is that you have your voice back. I don't suppose that counts for anything, does it?"

He shrugged, suddenly very tired. "I guess."

He felt a soft hand on his arm. "The morphine is starting to wear off. Why don't you try to rest for a bit while it works its way out of your system? Then we can do a quick exam and have you up and out as quickly as possible."

"Fine," he said, holding the puzzle out, someone taking from his hands a moment later.

"Major, since Rodney's lost interest, you get to put it back together."

“Hey! That’s not very fair.” Lorne protested, but Rodney could hear the faint clack of the pieces being moved around.

"It'll take him days," Rodney whispered absently, shivering a little.

"If he can'na finish before you're ready to leave, I'll put it back together later. And are you cold, lad?" The hand left his arm, and moved to his forehead, feeling very warm against his skin.

"Did you turn on the AC?"

"We don't have AC units here. Your body is just reacting to the changing chemicals in your blood." A warm blanket was pulled over him a few moments later.

"Thanks," he whispered, opening his eyes a little, another shiver running through him.

Carson's blue eyes were hovering over him, full of concern. "Ye daft bugger. Why can't anything ever be easy with you? I swear you're trying to run me into an early grave."

"'Cause I'm a genius?" He offered a hopeful look.

Chuckling, Carson let his hand drop away from where it was still resting against Rodney's forehead. "That must be it."

A few moments passed, the blanket slowly warming his chilled body, his eyes starting to droop a little. "Sorry," he finally whispered, glancing up at his friend.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. If you want to rest a bit, go right ahead. Goodness knows you push yourself hard enough to deserve it."

"Don't mean to send you to an early grave," he said quietly.

The doctor shook his head. "I was only teasing you. You don't worry about me. You've enough problems without adding mine to them as well."

"Oh, thanks," he grumbled.

"Don't worry about what you can'na do anything about. Focus on feeling better right now, and let me worry about fixing the rest."

Rodney grunted, but let his eyes close, his body sinking a little further into the mattress. He heard a few whispered conversations near his bed, but he ignored them, as he drifted off to sleep.

***

Making his way back into the section of the infirmary set aside for patients from where he had been working in the lab, Carson paused as he saw Ronon Dex sprawled in a chair near the room where Rodney and Sheppard were sleeping. The Colonel had relieved Evan in the middle of the day, giving the major some needed time off. "Ronon? What are you doing here so late?"

The Satedan shrugged. "Watching."

"Whatever for?"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on them when they're asleep."

Quirking an eyebrow, Beckett nodded. "I suppose I can see that. I'll be checking on them now, though, so why don't you go get some sleep."

"I slept earlier."

Shaking his head, Carson decided to let this one slide. It wasn't worth the effort to try and budge an immovable wall, which, judging from the bland look Ronon was giving him, was exactly what the man had decided to be for the moment. "Just don't overdo it. I din'na need yet another member of your team here for a prolonged stay."

"Teyla and I are taking turns when we're not on missions."

With another nod, Carson popped his head into the small isolation room, checking on his friend. He felt his lips quirk up at the sight of Colonel Sheppard slumped down in a chair beside the bed, head thrown back, a light snore coming from his general direction. It didn’t look very comfortable, but he knew both men had needed the sleep.

Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see how late it was. That was becoming a bad habit, staying up working until all hours of the night. If he wasn’t careful, he would start drinking coffee in Rodney-sized quantities and develop odd twitches.

He moved into the room, noting how easily Rodney was breathing and that the pain lines that had marred his face, even in sleep, had smoothed out. Good, hopefully that meant that when he did wake up, the worst would be over for this round of problems.

He reached the bedside, and absently reached for Rodney’s wrist, checking his vitals. Reassuring himself that his friend was still alive and mostly healthy, he set the hand back down and shook his head. “Ah, lad, what am I going to do about you?” He said softly.

"Dunno," Rodney mumbled quietly, voice still low and rough.

Carson jumped, stifling a gasp of surprise, and nearly falling back into the colonel. "Rodney! I did'na realize you were awake!"

"Wasn't until you touched me," he said, opening his eyes slowly, blinking against the glare from the other room.

Sheppard had sat up, blinking at them. "What's going on?"

“Nothing, son, sorry to have woken you both.” Carson got his beating heart back under control, and moved back over to the bed. “Since you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

"What time is it?" Rodney asked instead, shifting on the bed. He frowned and reached under the blanket, pulling out the Ancient device he'd been using before. Leaning over, he placed it on the bedside table.

"It's just after two a.m. You've both been asleep for several hours now. How is your throat? Any pain?"

"Still sore," he said. "Feels like a really bad sore throat."

Carson nodded. "That's to be expected. It should pass over the next few days, especially if you try to use it sparingly and build up to full volume slowly."

Sheppard snickered.

Rodney scowled, but otherwise ignored him. "It's really the middle of the night? What are you doing up?"

"Aye, it's really the middle of the night. If you'll agree to go back to your room and get a few more hours of sleep, I'll go ahead and discharge you. I know you'll be more comfortable there, especially since everything else is checking out okay." He decided to ignore the other question.

Rodney glanced away sheepishly. "I'm actually not sleepy," he said. "I'm tired, but this is probably the most sleep I've gotten all week."

"I don't doubt it, with your poor sleeping habits." He smiled to show that he was teasing. Sometimes Rodney, with the social skills of a turnip, couldn't tell the difference. He didn't want to agitate his friend. "Your body does need the rest, especially after what it went through today. I'd suggest working on your laptop in your quarters for an hour or two then, and making another attempt to sleep after that."

"I can't stay here?"

"You're more than welcome to stay here. I just did'na think you would want to."

Rodney shrugged. "I'm comfortable and besides…what if something happens?"

Carson half-sat on the end of the bed. "Then stay the night. I din'na think anything else will happen, but if you're more comfortable here, I'd rather have you here. Besides, I never mind keeping a close eye on you. And now that the worst seems to have passed, I can take out that IV and cannula. I don't think you need them anymore."

"Okay," he said with a short nod, allowing Carson to work, removing the tubing before he spoke again. "Are you sure all the side-effects are gone?"

Carson watched him carefully while he worked, weighing his words. "Fairly sure, yes. But this is experimental medicine. I'm just as happy to have a few more hours to watch you for anything unusual before you leave, even though I don't anticipate any further problems."

"You're sure"?

Carson raised one eyebrow. "Aye, as sure as I can be under the circumstances."

"Okay," Rodney said with a sigh, letting the silence grow between them for a moment before speaking again. "It's just that I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall, that I'm just waiting for something else to go wrong. This seems almost too easy, in a way. I couldn't have been that simple, could it have been?" He winced at the end, frowning as his hand instinctively went to his throat.

Sighing, he settled back on the end of the bed. "Well, to be fair, this was only the first step, and it was the simpler of the two problems to correct, which is why I started there. The other issue will be more…complex to solve. This was just a matter of a chemical agent keeping your vocal cords in a state of continuous paralysis, so all we had to do was find a counter-agent for it. DNA manipulation is harder."

"Oh."

"That does'na mean this wasn't a good first step though. You've no idea how pleased I am to hear your voice again."

Rodney snorted. "Sure you are," he whispered.

"I am." He let his voice take on a note of surety, closing the subject. "The only question now is would you like me to stay and chat for a bit, or would you like to lie back and rest?"

Rodney shrugged. "Up to you." He paused, glancing up, a sheepish expression on his face. "I am a little hungry."

Carson blinked, and suddenly realized dinner was a long time ago. "So am I actually. The mess is closed for the night, but why don't I see what I can rustle up for the three of us?"

"You have food?" Sheppard sounded nearly desperate.

"Well, I keep a few packs of MREs stashed in my office for emergencies. They aren't the greatest, but better than nothing when you don't have time to get a proper meal."

"I'll grab them," John said, rising and stretching, wincing a little.

Carson blinked, surprised. "All right. They're in the right-hand desk drawer, under the paperwork. There should be three or four of them. Thank you."

"Got it," he said, loping off to grab them, leaving the two men alone.

"Think he'll stay away longer than two minutes?" McKay finally asked.

"All in all, I'm glad for his dedication, his loyalty. We're friends, Rodney. It's what we do."

"But even dogs have more sense than him."

"Oh?"

"They know how to hide if something's wrong. They don't take insane risks for no good reason."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "You want him to go hide somewhere?"

"No. Look, just forget about it."

"I don't want to forget about it. Rodney, what's really bothering you?"

McKay glanced at him before leaning back against the bed. "Nothing. And come to think about it, I'm not really hungry. I'm going back to sleep."

Carson sagged a bit, letting Rodney see some of his own exhaustion. "Rodney, my friend, I love you like one of my own brothers, but I'm too tired to play games. Please, tell me what's wrong."

"I think you need to go and get some rest is what I think," Rodney says. It would sound more convincing if it wasn't whispered.

"No, I've got too much to do, and right now, I'm worried about you. Please, don't make me work for this. What's wrong?"

"I'm tired and I'm going to go back to sleep," he said, turning his head to the side and closing his eyes.

Sheppard wandered in a few moments later, MREs in his arms. "Sorry. Took me longer to find them than I thought. Okay, which one do you want? I have…" He looked at the labels. "Chicken Fajitas, Chili with Macaroni, Cheese Tortellini, Cajun Rice & Sausage, and Spaghetti with Meat Sauce."

Rodney muttered, "Nothing," before he pulled the blankets up higher.

Carson rubbed one hand across his face, settling himself a bit more on the end of the bed. "Throw the fajitas over here lad. I could use something with a bit of a kick to it."

"Here you go, Doc," Sheppard said, tossing it to him, juggling the others in his hands. "Spaghetti for you, McKay?"

He opened and eye long enough to glare at Sheppard before closing it again. "What part of 'I'm going to sleep' did you not understand?"

Carson gave the colonel a look, hoping he read it as 'ignore the tantrum'. He ripped open the MRE, and forced himself to wait the few minutes for his meal to heat before he started eating, more because he knew he needed the food in him than from any real hunger.

"So, in case things get hectic tomorrow, and we're all here and awake anyway, let's go over a few things. Rodney, you still can't use your radio, even though you can talk again, because there's still the problem of voice recognition if someone you know with the ATA calls you."

Rodney pointedly ignored him, pulling the blanket up higher instead. Sheppard raised his eyebrow toward Beckett, his silent question clear.

"Assuming there are no further complications tonight, I'll get started on a full analysis of the genetic changes in the morning. An initial work-up has already been done, so I'm not starting from scratch, which will speed things along a bit."

He heard Rodney sigh and the blankets exploded a moment later, revealing a very annoyed physicist. "Are you done?" he whispered harshly, glaring at Carson.

"I won't be done until I've fixed this."

"I'm not talking about your voodoo," Rodney said. "I'm talking about your to-do list and your pre-release lecture."

Carson closed his eyes, counted to five, then opened them again. He grabbed the Spaghetti MRE Sheppard had set on the bed, and tossed it in Rodney's lap. "All right then, what would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing. I want to go to sleep." Rodney crossed his hands over his chest, glaring at the two men.

Giving up, Carson rose off the bed. "All right. I'll be back by to check on you in a few hours, and if everything's still okay, I'll release you then. I'd recommend that you try to get some sleep."

"Finally," Rodney grumbled, shoving the MRE in Sheppard's direction as the man leapt to catch it before it hit the floor. Rescuing it from certain death, the Colonel put it on the table and followed Beckett out of the room, his half-eaten MRE in hand. Casting his eyes around, Carson realized that Ronon had left. Apparently with everyone up, there was no need to stand guard. Either that, or he was just hiding around the corner or something.

"What was that all about?"

"I have no idea. Just stay with him, John, and try to get some sleep if you can. Try it in one of the spare beds this time instead of the chair."

"Wait, Doc," he said, grabbing Beckett's arm, stopping him. "I'll stay with him, that's not a problem. I'm just trying to figure out what changed since I was last in there."

Carson tried to give the man some comfort. "Mostly, he's frustrated and trying hard to cope with a situation he's not really equipped for. You know how fiercely independent he can be. Having to rely on all of us like this is wearing him down. Expect more mood swings. It's his way of dealing with things."

"Mood swings? You call that a swing?"

"Aye, I do. Rodney is a very…emotional…person. Right now most of his emotions are running to the dark end of the spectrum. Frustration. Pain. Anxiety. Fear. Depression. He's trying to hide and suppress them, but he's not good at it, and it comes out in swings like that. I'm afraid his friends are likely bear the brunt. Just keep telling yourself its not personal, he just needs a target to release some of that so he can keep going."

Sheppard snorted. "Trust me, I think we've all been experiencing that first-hand already," he said, keeping his voice down.

He reached out, squeezing the soldier's shoulder. "Just spend as much time with him as you can, reminding him he's not dealing with this alone. I know the rest of us are planning to do the same. Rodney does'na realize how many friends he has I think."

"Are you sure we can't lock him in somewhere?"

"Have you ever met a lock he couldn't pick in ten seconds flat, especially in Atlantis?"

"Drugged out and strapped to a bed maybe? I heard he was entertaining on the morphine."

"I'm afraid not," Carson chuckled. "Go lie down, John. You're exhausted and you might as well get the sleep while you can."

"Yeah, next to the man who wakes up every hour on the hour," he said sighing. "Get some sleep yourself, Doc. You look like you could use it. And…" he paused, offering a tired smile, "you did a good job with him, with helping him get his voice back. He might not tell you that, but I don't have that issue."

Carson smiled. "Thank you. I, well I hope I can fix the rest of it too. Wait until I manage that to be generous with the praise. Now, go lie down before you miss too much of this hour of sleep."

"Night, Doc," Sheppard said, this time letting Carson go.

Carson made his way back to his lab, the food he had eaten churning a bit in his stomach. Grabbing a nearby alarm he kept here to make sure he didn't get so caught up in research that he forgot meetings, he set it for seven a.m. By then, Rodney would probably be ready to get out of here. Then he turned to his tools, calling up the information they had so far on Rodney's changed DNA, and settled down to work.

***

Even though Rodney had his voice back, things didn't change much. While Sheppard had said he was going to be cutting down on his missions, it didn't seem that way to McKay. Lorne was his ever-present guard dog, following him everywhere—even into bathrooms, checking them first before he allowed McKay to enter, waiting outside until he was done.

It was embarrassing.

He'd actually asked Lorne to wipe his ass at one point, but the major had refused. Go figure.

So while things on Atlantis got back to normal for everyone else, Rodney found himself trapped with a sourpuss-faced Major while his team went off-world on missions, leaving him behind like last week's garbage.

The scientists in the lab were learning to duck.

It didn't help when Sheppard swaggered in all kitted out for his latest mission, stopping by to see how things were going. Too bad his aim was so bad.

"Hey! What the hell, McKay?" Sheppard danced out of the way of the flying lab equipment. Rodney at least knew to throw the things that wouldn't break.

"Just trying to keep you on your toes. You know how the Pegasus Galaxy throws you curveballs all the time. Have to be ready for anything anytime. Atlantis is just as dangerous as any planet in this galaxy," McKay commented, his voice nearly back to normal. By the end of the day his throat was usually sore, but that also depended upon how much of the day had been spent with him yelling at moronic scientists.

"By hurling shit at me in a temper tantrum?" Sheppard's eyebrows had gone up, his lips twisted into a smirk.

"Call it what you want," he sniffed. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," Rodney said, turning back to his computer. "If you have any questions about the last time I ate, who I talked to, or the last time I went to the bathroom, talk to Fido. I'm sure he can fill you in."

"Hey, speaking of Lorne, when we get back, I'd like to set up a training schedule with you. I don't want you getting out of fighting trim, so Teyla and I want to spend a few hours a day working with you. Whatdya say?"

Rodney glanced up, giving the other man a look of barely concealed disdain. "Since there's no way I'm leaving Atlantis anytime in the next several years, I don't see any point of keeping up with your 'training schedule'," he said, his fingers forming air quotation marks. "So, go on your diplomatic square-dance and try not to get too many of the village girls impregnated this time."

"It won't take that long. A few weeks at most. Beckett seems pretty confident about that. I know you've been in all those staff meetings, were you not paying attention?"

"Oh, I was listening," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned in his stool to face the other man. "I just couldn't believe my ears. I've been through the records. I know what was done and I know exactly what Beckett is capable of actually doing. And on top of all that, I’m a genius who can actually do the math."

"You shouldn't give up. He'll find a way. If anyone's capable of reversing this, it's him. And he's nearly killing himself trying." Sheppard frowned a bit. "Actually, if you have the time, you might want to go drag him away for a while. He won't listen to any of us, and is only sleeping and eating the bare minimum to keep himself conscious. Maybe coming from you it'll be different."

"I doubt it."

"Up to you. I just thought I would mention it, since I know you guys are pretty close friends."

"Well, consider it mentioned. Are you done? I have a meeting in," he checked his watch, "ten minutes which I will be having in my office." Rodney glared over his shoulder to where Lorne was sitting.

Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, I'm headed back to the gateroom. Take care, and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"If your trained guard dog doesn't strangle me in my sleep, probably," Rodney muttered.

Grinning as he walked out the door, Sheppard threw his parting remark over his shoulder. "Nah, Lorne's a pretty straightforward guy. If he was going to off you, he'd just shoot you."

"Good to know, Colonel," Rodney grumbled. "I'll keep that in mind." He shook his head as Sheppard disappeared down the hall, turning back to his laptop and the report he was reading through. The next few minutes flew, the sound of a clearing throat catching his attention.

"One minute," he muttered, trying to finish a few last comments.

"I was hoping we could chat now, Doctor." Kramer's smooth voice replied.

"Yes, yes," he said, glancing up. "Just wait in my office. I'll be right there."

"Now would be better for me."

"I'm sure it would be," he commented, as he typed. "But if I don't finish this, your project will end up further behind. And the longer you talk to me now, the longer it'll take me to finish. Ask Lorne to get you coffee if you want some."

Kramer leaned in closer, his voice pitched so only Rodney could hear him. "Now, Doctor McKay, I thought we had agreed that when I needed to speak with you, I would take top priority. Go to your office now so we can talk."

Rodney's head snapped up, eyes widening a fraction. "Oh, yes. Of course," he said, saving the document he was working on. He could feel Lorne coming up behind him.

"Everything okay, Doc?" Lorne was eyeing Kramer carefully.

"Fine. He was just reminding me about how he dislikes your coffee. He was trying not to hurt your feelings," McKay said, rising to his feet. "We'll be in my office."

Lorne looked like he was about to object, but thought better of it. "Fine. I'll be out here if you need me."

"We won't," he commented, gesturing for the scientist to enter before him. Lorne had made McKay move his office around so that his desk and visitor chair were in plain sight. The door had to remain open, but with Lorne on the other side of the room, he could at least pretend to have private conversations and then it was limited to only those on his "cleared" list of visitors—all the scientists without the ATA gene. Door closing was absolutely out of the question—unless he wanted to have one pissed off Major coming in shooting, asking questions after the bullets stopped flying.

Kramer settled himself in the chair across from Rodney, out of sight of the door. He smiled pleasantly as they both got settled. "Now then Rodney—do you mind if I call you Rodney?—I think we need to have a little chat."

"No, that's fine," he said, but Lorne was at the door a minute later.

"Doctor Kramer, I'm going to insist that you move to where I can see you."

Irritation passed across the man's face, gone so fast Rodney wasn't even sure it had been there in the first place. "Surely, Major, you aren't still concerned about me? I do not have the gene, and I have spoken with Doctor McKay many times over the past several days."

"Doesn't matter. A rule is a rule. Either abide by it or leave." Lorne rested his hand on the butt of his sidearm, his eyes narrowed.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to disobey the rules. I apologize." He stood and shifted into the other guest chair, the one in view of the door.

"Thank you. I'm glad you understand," Lorne said, turning to McKay. "See that he stays in my sight at all times. And you can consider than an order."

Rodney frowned, but nodded. "Understood, Major."

Kramer waited until Lorne had moved out of hearing distance, keeping his voice pitched low, but taking on a note of command. "I do believe Major Lorne could become a problem. But that's for later. Right now, I thought it would only be polite to fill you in on a few details. While I speak, you will stay seated, only respond when I ask you a specific question, and you will give no outward sign of distress, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, of course." Rodney's forehead furrowed a little in question, but made no other response.

"Excellent. Now, as you can tell I do, in fact have the ATA gene. My people were able to disguise that fact when I came here, and that has proven to be more than useful." He had turned so he was facing Rodney—Lorne wouldn't be able to see his face. The smile on his lips was almost cruel. "I was sent here to gather information, but I was never one to pass up a golden opportunity. I've been thinking, and I do believe that if I were to deliver you to Ba'al as my slave, my position will be assured."

Rodney's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening slightly. He wanted to jump to his feet and race out of his office screaming at the top of his lungs for Lorne to arrest the scientist, but he couldn't, forced as he was to sit and listen and panic in silence.

Kramer had been watching his eyes, and the smile widen slightly. "I see you're beginning to understand. Excellent. Your service to me officially begins now. And for future reference, it is now a standing order that you are not to allow any hint of this to reach anyone else. For now, I'll leave you to think about things. In fact, every time you fall asleep, you will dream of all the ways you can please me."

This was not happening. This couldn't be happening. How in the world had this man gotten through to Atlantis without anyone knowing what he was?

Kramer rose to his feet, his smile slipping into the polite one he generally wore. "Thanks for taking the time to hear my progress, Doctor McKay. I'll be back later if I have any questions. All in all, this project is progressing quite well."

Rodney offered a weak nod, his mind still processing everything the man had said and implied, his thoughts swirling in an ever-increasing rush.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping again. "Go about your daily business. Do not forget that no one is to guess any of this." He straightened up, smiling as Lorne moved closer again. "Major. Thank you again for allowing me to speak with, Doctor McKay privately. My project is a bit sensitive, and the ability to converse freely is a great help."

"That was quick," Lorne commented, eyeing the two men carefully. "Everything okay?"

"Of course. I merely needed to give Doctor McKay a status report, and get his approval to proceed." Kramer looked back at Rodney. "I do have a go for the next phase, don't I?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney said, the correct words coming out of his mouth even though his mind was screaming at him on the inside. "Everything is proceeding as it should although he may need some hand-holding along the way."

Kramer nodded. "I'll get to it then. Thank you. Doctor. Major." He nodded his head to both of them, then turned and walked away.

“Doc? You sure everything’s okay? I know you’re pissed at me, but there’s something about that guy I just don’t like. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to suspend his project until we get you all fixed up, would you?” Lorne was watching the retreating scientist carefully.

"No," he said quickly, rising to his feet. "The project's important. And besides, if I stopped working on something because I didn't like someone or something I'd never get anything accomplished." He moved to push past Lorne, but the other man grabbed his arm.

"Goddamnit, McKay. Like it or not, I'm trying to help here, although at the moment I'm seriously tempted to shoot you. When you're compiling all the people you plan to murder slowly in their sleep, just remember I haven't even attempted to take advantage of your situation, although the temptation to tell you to sit down and shut up is getting harder and harder to resist."

He pulled his arm away from Lorne, standing toe-to-toe with the man. "Oh, sure. Go right ahead. It's bad enough that you ordered me to make sure he stayed in sight. I know how to do my job and out of all the people here, I am the one most concerned about my own safety."

"Whatever." Lorne whirled and planted himself back in his chair, back straight, face blanked of all emotion.

"What's that supposed to mean, Major?"

"Nothing. Just..." Frustration filtered over his features. "You know, I can't even tell you off, since I don't know if you'll take it literally or not."

Rodney glowered. "You can always order me not to take you literally."

"Except then when I do need you to, you won't. Damnit. When this is over, Sheppard had better give me a decent amount of leave time, and enough money to set me up on a beach somewhere with hula girls and massive feasts every night."

"Whatever, Major," Rodney said, waving his hand. "Do whatever you want, but how about you just leave me alone?"

"As much as I'd love to, right now guarding your geeky white ass is my only reason for living."

"Well then, let's give the man a prize," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he sat back down at his workstation, bringing up the document he was working on before the meeting, before Kramer had revealed himself.

"Hula girls. I'm keeping my eye firmly on the prize, McKay."

"Oh, just shut up, would you? Your whining and nagging is driving me up a wall."

"Wow, the great Rodney McKay reduced to clichéd insults. What happened to the man who could reduce grandmothers to tears?"

Rodney sighed, turned in his chair to face Lorne. "The man can barely think after close association with the idiotic military grunt he's been forced to live with for the past week and a half. I can feel my IQ dropping every minute I have to spend with you. By the time Carson finishes with his voodoo in a few years, they'll be nothing left for him to revive. So, why don't you haul your ass up out of the chair and go on your merry way and let whatever happens happen? At this point I don't care anymore."

"Because, as much as I would love to see you squirm, just a little, right now, I still kind of like you. Or I will like you again when we don't have to spend every moment of every day together. So as much of a pain as you're making this, I'm sticking around until I don't have to worry about you any more."

McKay snorted. "Trust me, Major, you don't have to worry about anything," he said, adding 'except for Goa'uld sympathizers who have infiltrated Atlantis' in his mind. "And I'll ignore the comment about making me squirm."

"Right, nothing to worry about. Only the fact that someone left you in your boxers on the floor, someone keeps lurking around the lab at night, and every time I turn around you're demanding private meetings. Of course, what was I thinking?"

"I'm also trying to do my job. You know, the one I was hired to do and your meddling isn't exactly conducive to a work environment. I don't understand why Sheppard even keeps you around. Oh, wait, yes I do," he said, his voice dripped with disdain. "You know how to follow orders like a good little guard dog. I'd forgotten."

Lorne's hands tightened on his gun for a moment, then slowly released. "Maybe I wouldn't be such a pain in the ass if you'd show even an ounce of self-preservation. Honestly, I don't know why Sheppard keeps you on his team. You probably rush headlong into danger every time it rears its little head."

"At least I can recognize danger." Except for those times when I can't, he added to himself, his mind still spinning.

Lorne snorted. "No, you can't."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "See what I mean about being counterproductive? You've made me sit here and argue with you for ten minutes when I could have spent the time working on something important."

"You're the one who's always claiming he's capable of working and berating the subordinates at the same time. I'm touched you rate me up there with Sheppard as needing your full and undivided attention for mocking."

"You give me no choice in the matter. You won't shut up even when I turn around to start working. You just keep prattling on."

"Then by all means, work away. I'll just sit here and glare at people. That seems to be what my life is reduced to right now."

"Apparently that's all Sheppard thinks you're capable of doing," he said, turning back to his computer.

Lorne didn't respond right away, and Rodney didn't think he was going to, until a quiet mutter, probably not meant to be overheard, drifted over to him. "No, Sheppard just put me in charge of safeguarding the most valuable man in Atlantis, who also happens to have a death wish."

"I don't have a death wish," Rodney muttered.

"What?" Lorne looked back over from where he had been idly scanning the room.

"Nothing," Rodney said quietly, letting out a quiet sigh. He was so screwed. Between Lorne and Kramer, he was trapped in a nightmare that had no end.

After a second, a chocolate peanut butter PowerBar landed on his keyboard. Lorne was still in his chair, carefully not looking at him. "With all the distractions today, why don't we skip lunch? You can eat that to keep your blood sugar up."

"A peace offering, Major?"

"Maybe."

"Coffee would be nice."

"Don't push your luck. That's the last chocolate one in all of Atlantis."

"Doubtful, Major. You just don't know where the good ones are kept," he said, ripping open the wrapper and taking a bite.

"Who do you think Sheppard passes the duty of cataloging and organizing all the supplies as they come in to? I know how many boxes the science staff has in hiding, and where you keep them. Where did you think the new ones were coming from when your stocks got low? They don't respawn by themselves."

McKay shrugged. "What you don't know doesn't hurt you, Major. Remember that." And that statement had never been more true.

Lorne just chuckled.

McKay sighed and got back to work. He had a lot to do, even though it seemed like he was in servitude to a crazy Goa'uld sympathizer. Where was Carson's magic pill when you needed it?

Lorne actually left him alone, letting him work for most of the day without bothering him too badly. It was at least a little progress. Hearing a shuffle of footfalls near his workstation he sighed. If only it would have lasted longer. "What part of 'trying to work' do you not understand?"

"I apologize, I was not trying to disturb you, only check to see how you were faring." Teyla stepped out of the shadows in the doorway.

Rodney's head snapped up, his eyes wide. Apparently Sheppard's team was back from their mission. He caught the amused expression on Lorne's face, but decided to ignore it. "Oh…Teyla. Sorry. I've just been busy trying to get some work done and…" He stopped, taking a breath. "Hi."

She moved closer, putting her hands on his shoulders and lowering her head, staying still until he responded.

He sighed, but slowly lowered his forehead to touch hers, awkwardly patting her arm before she finally stepped back.

"I know you have a meeting soon, but I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. My door is always open should you wish to talk."

"You mean like…literally? That can't be good. People walking in all the time and whatnot—" His hands fluttered in the air, gesturing and uneasy at the same time.

"Rodney." Her lips twitched. "While I would welcome anyone who cared to stop by, I have only extended an open invitation to a few I consider friends, such as yourself."

"Oh. Oh, right." He paused again. "Look, I'm really glad that the machine didn't do anything to you. But to be honest, I'm envious, too, because you're not in the situation I'm in. Not that I want you in this situation in the first place, but…"

She reached out and put one hand on his shoulder again. "I understand. I wish you had come away as unscathed as I did. However, Doctor Beckett is working hard to find a way to reverse the changes. I have every confidence in his abilities."

Rodney shrugged, her hand rising with the motion. "It's not exactly easy."

"It is not. But that does not mean you must close yourself off from those who care about you." She let her hand drop, her smile warm. "I will let you return to your work. Do not hesitate to find me should you wish to sit and talk further."

"I…" His voice trailed off, whatever he was going to say vanishing into thin air. He nodded, his lips twitching in a half-smile. "Thanks."

Without losing her smile, she stepped back. "You are most welcome." With a final nod, she turned and quietly left.

"Nice lady. Scary with the sticks, though," Lorne said after a moment.

Rodney rolled his eyes, scowling at the major. "She can break you in two, you know."

"Hence the scary part." Lorne was still looking out the door where she had disappeared. "She's someone I wouldn't hesitate to trust my six to, in any situation."

McKay glanced away, his eyes drifting back to his computer screen, his words said more to himself than Lorne. "I trust her with mine."

***

 

Carson slipped into his usual seat at the conference table. He was the first to arrive today, although the rest of the senior staff wasn’t far behind, he was sure. Shuffling his papers, he wished he had something earth shattering to report. They were making progress, but it was just going so slowly.

Taking a sip from the cup he’d brought from his lab, he winced slightly at the bitter taste. He had finally caved and switched to coffee, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Colonel Sheppard waltzed in a moment later, dropping into a chair and sprawling in it. "Morning, Doc."

"Good morning. How did the mission go?"

"Which one?" he asked, an eyebrow rising.

"How many have you been on lately?" Carson had been letting Doctor Biro and some of the other doctors handle the post-mission checks while he worked in the lab, but he didn't think he'd been that out of the loop.

"Since Rodney got his voice back?" Sheppard paused, counting. "Three in the past week." Elizabeth Weir stepped in at the tail end of his comment.

"And they've been uneventful, if unsuccessful missions." Sheppard seemed almost disappointed.

Huh. How had he managed to miss that? "Ah, right. Of course." To cover, he took another sip of coffee.

"I know you've been busy, Carson," Weir said, sitting down in her usual chair at the head of the table, "but I didn't think you've been that much removed from things."

"Of course not. As you said, they've all been uneventful, and for better or for worse, those tend to be the first I forget about as soon as they're over."

She looked at him for a long moment that was only interrupted by the entrance of McKay and Lorne—neither looking happy as they strode in, grabbing the nearest chairs. Carson swore McKay's laptop hit the table a little harder than usual.

Taking the initiative, Carson decided to head off any potential disasters before they could get started. "All right then, if you don't mind, I'll go first. We've finished a full work-up of the genetic changes, and so far, all of them appear to be fairly superficial. That is, the underlying core of Rodney's DNA has'na been changed. Instead, the system changed the way he reacted to certain stimuli, which is a bit easier to reverse."

Rodney rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

Carson ignored the response. "Not to say that it's easy, however. There is still quite a bit of work to do, figuring out precisely what was done and how, and then finding a way to do the opposite. We're making progress. Slowly, to be sure, but it is progress."

"Of course it's not easy," McKay finally said, leaning forward and planting his elbows on the table as he glared across the room. "The last time I checked you weren't an Ancient so I'm not surprised that much of what their system did to me is beyond your limited comprehension."

"Not easy, no, but we are making progress. I might not be an Ancient, but I was plugged..." Carson got control of his temper. He knew Rodney was just lashing out from frustration. While the man had a sharp tongue, he wasn't purposely mean.

"I am pleased with the pace of the progress," Carson said, continuing in a calmer manner. "I'd rather go slow and make sure we've identified all the problems before we start trying to tinker with anything. I know it sounds like a long time, but my best estimate is that I'll be able to begin trials on the mice in a few weeks. Depending on how that goes, we'll be ready to move to Rodney shortly after that."

"Joy. Mice trials."

"McKay," Sheppard growled, the warning clear in his voice. The last few staff meetings had ended up in arguments and it looked like this one was quickly headed in that direction again.

"What?" The astrophysicist's eyes were wide. "What else do you expect me to say? Do you think I'm going to be thrilled with the progression so far? Or should I say, lack of progression? It's been what, two weeks already, if not longer?"

"If you'd like me to run head on and just start injecting you with things in the off chance something might work, drop by any time and we can get started. But if you actually want me to be sure I'm solving problems and not causing new ones, you'll just have to be content with letting me set the pace on the research." Carson leaned forward, fixing the scientist with a glare.

"If it weren't for you and your stupid gene and your 'let's see what happens when I plug myself into an alien system' attitude, I wouldn't be in this position in the first place," McKay said, turning red as he yelled across the table.

Carson felt the blood drain out of his face. Rodney had mocked him, but he had never come right out and blamed him for this debacle. He felt like he had just been punched, the words an echo of what he had been telling himself over and over since it happened. Carefully pushing himself up, he gathered his papers. "I think I should return to work. I have quite a bit to do today. If you'll all excuse me."

"Goddamnit," Sheppard said, rising to his feet as he glared at the two of them. "Carson sit down, we're not done. And for crying out loud McKay, sit there and shut the goddamn hell up until I tell you otherwise. Clear?"

Rodney's eyes were wide in anger, but he nodded silently, crossing his arms over his chest as he visibly fumed.

Carson didn't move. "Colonel, he has every right to be upset, and we all know he is'na wrong. Forcing him to stay silent will'na change that."

"Right now it'll help him to keep his opinion to himself while we talk about everything. If he can't control himself like an adult then we're just going to start treating him like the five-year-old that he's acting like," Sheppard said, sending another glare to McKay.

"Carson, please sit," Elizabeth said quietly, her face pinched in anger. She was visibly trying to calm herself. "I'm sure we all have some questions for you."

Carson fought the urge to flee, or close his eyes and pretend he was somewhere else. Slowly, he sat back down, struggling to regain his outward calm. "What would you like to know? I'll do my best."

"How about we start at the beginning before things were…interrupted?" Weir sent a stern look toward Rodney who scowled back at her.

"There is'na much more to say. I wish I had more for you, honestly."

"So, Rodney's DNA is intact? It hasn't actually been altered?" she asked, her eyes on him.

"Nae. There are some genetic changes, but those are all fairly simple. The problem is that how his brain reacts to certain stimuli—orders given by someone with the ATA gene—has been rewired. Think of it in terms of hardware and software. There was a minor hardware change to allow him to recognize the ATA, which I'm still trying to track down exactly. The bigger problem is that the software was reprogrammed. We have to find a way to reset it, essentially."

Elizabeth's voice was calm, level. "Which involves what exactly? I know you've been spending hours on end going through the database, so you must have some kind of idea."

The sound of something thumping turned their attention to McKay who'd ended up dropping his head into his arms repeatedly as they lay crossed on the table before him.

"McKay," Sheppard growled and the thumping stopped, but Rodney didn't raise his head.

Hoping he didn't regret this on several fronts, Carson decided to let Rodney speak. "What is it, Rodney? I'm rescinding Colonel Sheppard's order to keep quiet."

"Beckett," Sheppard complained, giving him a 'come on, what are you doing' look.

McKay picked up his head, his eyes fixed on Carson. "I'm not even going to comment on that sorry excuse for an illustration, but let's face facts. This is not something that you can even begin to do here on Atlantis."

Sucking in a breath, he looked Rodney in the eye. He had hoped he wouldn't have to bring this up until he had a better idea of what they needed to do. "I was never planning on doing most of the work on Atlantis. Once I get far enough along, I'll be going back and getting the rest of what I need from the system itself."

"See, my point," he said, waving his hand toward Carson.

"Wait a minute," Sheppard said, looking between the two men, "you have to go back to the planet that did this to McKay?"

"Aye. I've always known I would need to. I can do the actual work here, and the risk to Rodney is too great to bring him back there. I will, however, need the information we weren't able to download."

"Absolutely not," Sheppard said, face hard.

"Carson," Elizabeth said, stepping in with a calm voice, "there has to be another way."

"Look, I knew you would'na like this, which is why I hadn't planned to say anything yet. There's still quite a bit to be done before I need to go back, as I'd like to know exactly what I need before I attempt to plug in to the system again. Mostly, I'll need the exact specifications of what Rodney was given, in what order, and why. There were actually several agents injected at the same time, in rapid succession, and I remember there was a reason for it, although at the time I was being kept…otherwise occupied…so I was'na able to memorize it."

"Occupied?" This time Elizabeth's face took on a much darker complexion. "Why wasn't this mentioned before? And I think it's about time you…explained in much greater detail what happened and how you plan on proceeding."

Blinking Carson thought back on what he had just said, and realized what he had let slip. Bloody. Everlasting. Hell. Maybe he could gloss over it. "For now I plan to proceed the way I mentioned earlier. There is still quite a bit of work to do isolating all the changes and how they interact with each other. Until I'm sure we've tagged everything that needs to be reversed, I'm not going to initiate any trials."

"And back on the planet?" Her voice was hard, unyielding.

"When I return, I'll be looking for, hopefully, only a few key missing pieces of information. My plan is to get as far as we possibly can before it comes to that."

"Which means that I'm going to be stuck with Fido here for the next year if not more," Rodney grumbled, his face a cross between annoyance and anger as he gestured to the silent major sitting beside him.

"Weeks. I'm confident it won't be more than a few weeks." Silently, Carson thanked his self-absorbed friend for the interruption.

Sheppard glanced at the scientist for a long moment before speaking. "Rodney, were you in the middle of something before this?"

He rolled his eyes. "When am I not?"

"Why don't you go back to the labs—that is if you want to."

"Yes, I'd like to do something productive," he growled, scowling across the table at Carson.

"Consider yourself free to go, with Lorne, of course."

"Of course," he said, rising. He grabbed his computer and Lorne followed him out the door a moment later.

Carson grabbed his papers, and started to rise as well, anxious to get back to the lab.

"Beckett, sit," John said. Sighing loudly, he rubbed a hand over his face and apologized. "Sorry about that, but I think it might be better for us to talk about this without Rodney here glaring."

Freezing, he looked up at John and Elizabeth, who were both watching him carefully. "T…talk? About what? I've given you all I have to report right now."

"Not quite," he said, glancing across the table toward Weir.

He decided to try for brusque. "Look, I'm fairly busy myself. If I'm to come through on my promise of something to try in a few weeks, I need to spend as much time as I can working on a cure."

"Carson," Elizabeth said wearily. "Please stop."

He sank slowly back into the chair. "What can I do for you then?"

Elizabeth paused, obviously picking her words carefully. "Colonel Sheppard and I have been…concerned about a number of things. You happen to be at the top of our list."

"Me? Why would you be concerned about me?"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Sheppard asked, exasperation in his voice.

Weir shot him a stern look before turning back to Carson. "We've spoken with Doctor Biro, Nurse Matthews, and several other members of your staff and they've expressed some of their concerns to us about your work hours. You're pushing yourself too hard, Carson."

He stared down into his cup for a moment, then drained the bitter brew in one gulp to buy himself a bit of time to think. Finally looking back up, he shook his head. "I appreciate the concern, but if I start to feel like I can'na do my job, I'll slow down."

"We're not here to tell you how to do your job," Elizabeth said, her tone kind. "We just see the toll it's taking on you and we don't want to lose both you and Rodney if things get out of control."

Pulling his hands under the table, he clasped them together. "Elizabeth, Colonel, I... I can't stop. I can't slow down. I have to fix this." The doctor in him urged him to keep talking, knowing he needed someone to step in, but the rest of him, the guilty part, urged him to silence. He wasn't sure what he hoped for more, that they would push him, or let him leave.

Exchanging a long look with John, Elizabeth replied. "We're not asking to you to stop, but we are asking you to slow down. What if in your hurry you get something wrong and it ends up causing harm to Rodney? What then? Use your staff. Ask them to help you. If we continue to hear reports about you spending all of your time—including time you should be sleeping—in the labs, we're going to have another conversation and you are not going to like it. Neither will Rodney since that decision will directly affect him as well."

He flinched, knowing it was true. "I wish I could sleep," he finally confessed quietly. "Every time I close my eyes, I... It's much easier to just keep working until I pass out. There aren't any dreams then."

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, a sigh escaping from her lips. "I think it might be advantageous for you to speak with Kate in that case. We can't afford to lose you, Carson."

This was one area where he agreed wholeheartedly with Rodney. He liked Kate, but had no desire to let her poke around in his head. "Maybe, after this is all over, I'll try to find time to sit down with her. But right now, I have to fix this. I'd take sleeping pills, but I can't afford to be knocked out it there's an emergency. If it makes you feel any better, I'm not taking any stimulants to keep myself awake beyond what my body can handle." Well, except for the coffee, but that didn't count.

"Carson," Elizabeth's tone brooked no argument. "That wasn't a suggestion."

He looked over at John, who had been unusually quiet so far, hoping for an ally at least in this. He knew the man didn't like the idea of talking to a psychologist any more than he did. "I don't think—"

"And that seems to be the general problem these days, doesn't it?" Sheppard said, looking pointedly at Carson. "No one seems to be actually thinking anymore before they run off half-cocked or run their mouths until everyone just ends up at each other's throats. Don't worry, Beckett, McKay will have his own…conversation soon enough."

"For the record, I'm not keen about this. I've no issues with Kate, but there's quite a bit I'm safely repressing right now, with no desire to bring it all to the surface. You say you don't want to see me run screaming down the halls out of my bloody mind, but then you're asking me to go dredge everything up."

"You're already admitted to having problems sleeping because of the incident on the planet—so it's already affecting you whether you want to admit it or not. You're not dealing with it, Beckett. You're just hiding from it. There's a difference." Sheppard leaned forward, looking him in the eyes. "Look, I'll admit that I can't stand talking to Kate, but I do it and right now, I think you need to for your own good—and for McKay's."

He couldn't stop the shudder that went through him at the thought of having to talk about what had happened. But the colonel had used the one attack against which he had no defense right now—Rodney. "I...really don't want to do this. But I'm starting to realize I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not really, no," Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

With a sigh, he finally looked her in the eye, for the first time since this conversation began. "When do you want me there then?"

"As soon as you can make an appointment," she said, offering a tired smile. "And please don't put this off. I will be checking with Kate to make sure you follow though—with this appointment and her advice, whatever it may be. Also, you need to start working shorter hours."

"I'm not a bloody two year old." He grumbled, shaking his head. "I'll make the appointment, but right now, even if I stop working I won't sleep. I've tried. At least this way I'm getting something productive done."

"Carson, we're worried about you and we really want what's best for you and Rodney. Pushing yourself like you've been doing if just going to end up hurting both of you," Elizabeth said.

He stared down at the table, both hands coming up to massage unconsciously at the knots in his neck. Atlantis needed a good masseuse. "I'll...try again. To sleep. I can't promise anything though. There's only so many times I can sequence DNA in my head to fall asleep before even that starts to become ineffective."

"I appreciate your honesty, Carson, I really do, and if you ever need to talk, please know that my door is always open, whatever time it is. Okay?"

Recognizing the permission to leave, Carson rose, and offered them both a weak smile. "Aye, and thank you. Both of you."

Elizabeth nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight, thin line. He could feel their eyes on his back as he walked out into the control room.

He made it back to his office without anyone stopping him, closed his door, something he rarely felt the need to do. Sinking into his chair, he stared at the wall for a moment, before reaching up to tap on his radio. "Kate, it's Carson. I need to make an appointment."

***

Rodney had stormed out of the morning meeting with Lorne trailing behind him, a mixture of anger, humiliation, embarrassment, and barely controlled panic flowing through him. He was absolutely exhausted, his nights no longer restful when he finally fell asleep.

Dreams assaulted him as soon as his eyes closed, chasing him through the day until he dropped from sheer exhaustion and they could begin again. His mind was too clever for his own good, coming up with far too many situations and circumstances—some of them extremely personal and intimate. He wasn't sure which was worse—those or the ones where he was tortured for the information he had. In either case, it all ended the same—with Kramer and Ba'al looking down on him and smiling.

Rodney had spotted Ronon hovering several times during the day, catching the Satedan's form out of the corner of his eye—which meant he wanted to be seen. Teyla stopped in once, talking to him quietly and forcefully, reminding him to take care of himself. He knew she meant well, but Kramer's orders weren't exactly conducive to restfulness.

He'd eaten lunch and dinner at his desk, Lorne calling to have something delivered on both occasions. He wasn't hungry, the food sitting like a rock in his stomach, but if he didn't eat then there would be visits to the infirmary and then there was the possibility that Kramer would be…upset with him. And that couldn't happen.

Damn.

He hated himself right now even more than he usually did.

He heard Lorne shuffle and straighten up behind him, but he ignored the movement, paying attention to his computer and his work instead.

"McKay." Sheppard's drawl had a note of something else in it.

"Busy here," he replied without looking up.

"Elizabeth would like you to come up to her office."

Rodney glanced up, narrowing his eyes at the colonel. "You can politely explain to her that I'm busy."

"Can't do that. She sent me in person because she didn't want to do it via Lorne's radio to be polite. But that doesn't mean you can get out of it." He shrugged, leaning against the wall.

"And that doesn't mean you can just waltz in here and interrupt me when I'm working." Rodney turned back to his computer, his fingers hovering over the keys as he tried to find his place again.

"She's the boss. In anything other than strict military matters, I do what she tells me to. And right now, she told me to fetch you."

"So, that's where the whole Fido thing comes from. Good to know," he commented, finishing off another sentence. Hitting "save", he looked back up. "So what's this all about? You order me out of the meeting this morning because you obviously had no time or patience to even try to talk to me like an adult and now you're here loitering in my door, telling me that Elizabeth wants to talk. Well, she can wait until tomorrow when I'm finally ready to 'chat like an adult' because I'm certainly not in any mood right now."

Sheppard sighed. "I asked you to leave because Elizabeth and I needed to have a little talk with Beckett. Now it's your turn. Carson wasn't very happy with us, and somehow I doubt you will be either, but it needs to be done."

"If that's the case, then it can certainly wait until tomorrow."

"Come on, McKay. Neither of us has a choice in this. I'm giving you some leeway by letting you find a stopping point, but I can make it an order if you push the issue."

"And you'd like that wouldn't you?" McKay said, turning back to his work.

Sheppard sighed again. "Actually, no, not at all. I give orders, McKay. I'm an officer in the military. I can't help it. The fact that you have no ability to question those orders at the moment is almost painful. But the fact remains that I would have made this an order as your team leader with or without the altered gene because Elizabeth asked me to come get you. Now, you can come along of your own will, or I can make it official. I'll leave the choice up to you."

McKay looked at him for a long moment before responding. "And Fido?"

Sheppard's lips twitched slightly. "Since I'll be with you, why don't we give Lorne a bit of a break?"

At that, Lorne's "at attention" pose got even straighter. Sheppard nodded, gesturing toward the door. "Go ahead and take a break. We'll probably grab some dinner after. I'll give you a call when he's ready to flee my charming company."

“Thank you, sir!” Lorne gave a sharp salute and was out the door almost before he had finished it. “See ya in a bit, Doc. Enjoy!” He said as he left.

"Can you give me ten minutes or are we under some strange time constraint that you're refusing to tell me about?" McKay glared.

Sheppard looked him over carefully, then nodded. "No more though, or I'll get to stay after class to write 'I will not dawdle when geek-fetching' a hundred times on the blackboard."

"As if you haven’t had to do that before," he huffed, turning back to his computer.

"Never said I didn't, I just try to avoid it whenever possible. The temptation to start writing something else kicks in at around the fifteenth repetition, and for some reason improvisation is discouraged."

Rodney rolled his eyes and got back to work, trying to fit thirty minutes of work in ten. He was almost done when Sheppard tapped him on the back.

"Almost ready?"

"Almost is the operative word," he replied, still typing.

"And, for the record, I ate dinner," Rodney said switching topics quickly, picking up on something Sheppard had said before. He absently gestured to the pile of crap on the edge of his desk.

Sheppard picked at the various wrappers. "This isn't dinner; it's junk. It's meatloaf night in the mess, and I know that's one of your favorites. Not to mention, I heard rumors of real chocolate cake."

Rodney glanced up at that, eyebrow raised. "I ate," he repeated after a moment.

The colonel unleashed the patented "Charming Sheppard" look, guaranteed to melt the hearts of men, women, and beasts. Even Rodney felt himself starting to give in. "Come on, you can just eat cake then and keep me company. We haven't had time to hang out in a while."

He rolled his eyes. "Like we 'hang out'."

"What do you call movie nights? Or all those arguments about which is better, hockey or football? Or prime/not prime? Face it, Rodney, whether you like it or not, we're friends."

Rodney gave him a strange 'are you on crack again' look as he finished up the file he was working on. Saving the document to the server, he closed out of the programs and locked down his computer. "Are you ready"?

"Been ready." Sheppard fell into step beside him as they started out the door. "So, any cool new things going on down here? With Lorne haunting the place, I've been keeping away, so I'm behind on the lab gossip."

Rodney shrugged, walking next to Sheppard. "I really don't know. You'd have to ask Zelenka."

"All he ever has to talk about is women and booze. No offense, your SIC may be brilliant, but he's got a bit of a one-track mind when it comes to his off hours."

"And?"

"You usually have more interesting gossip. Like which underlings screwed up by nearly blowing themselves to pieces, or the new methods being employed to drive Kavanaugh insane." John grinned at him.

"I've been busy," he said quietly, pausing in front of the transporter, waiting for the doors to open.

"Yeah, I know." John's voice was understanding. "Just, don't forget you have friends, okay?"

Rodney glanced up, brows furrowed, but he didn't comment, stepping into the small alcove and pressing the location closest to the control room.

When they got to Elizabeth's office, she looked up from her laptop, a tired smile on her face. "Gentlemen. Have a seat."

Rodney moved carefully, settling into one of the chairs, John taking a seat on the other side of the room as the door closed behind them. He waited for a moment, the silence growing between them. McKay finally spoke, uncomfortable by it. "Sheppard said you wanted something."

Elizabeth nodded, watching him carefully. "I wanted to see how you were doing. This has been hard, I know. We're both worried about you."

"You could have emailed me the question you know. I do respond. And I'm fine," he moved to get up. "We done?"

"Sit down, Rodney. This is what I'm worried about. You're pushing everyone away, and your temper is hotter than usual. You nearly had Carson in tears this morning, and that's just not like you." She leaned forward slightly, her face shining with concern. For him.

"I'm sorry, is my personality too abrasive for you? I'll try to get that changed the next time I go through an excruciatingly painful gene-altering process," he said sarcastically. "Or maybe you can just have Carson whip something up in his spare time. I’m sure he can come up with some kind of horribly painful and embarrassing procedure."

"Abrasive, yes, and that's one of the things I admire about you. But you generally have a reason to cut into people, even though you are more…blunt…than anyone else would be. But I've never seen you deliberately cruel. I know you haven't been sleeping much. Frankly, you look like hell. And you haven't talked much to anyone about what happened."

"Are you sure you haven’t spoken with my staff yet? I'm sure they'd argue with you about the 'deliberately cruel' thing. And as for speaking to someone, what's there to say? I was used as some lab experiment and the perpetrator happened to be one of my closest friends." He sat back, arms crossed. The whole sleeping thing was a subject he couldn't even begin to approach, even though that's the only thing he wanted to talk about, but couldn't.

"You know it wasn't him doing it. In fact, I think there's quite a bit he's not telling us about what happened to him." Sheppard was lounging in the chair watching him carefully.

"Then why aren't you asking him about that, hmm?" Rodney returned Sheppard's look evenly, not flinching or turning aside.

"I have. More than once. And every time he starts to shake and changes the subject as fast as he can." Sheppard didn't back down.

“Gentlemen.” Elizabeth drew both of their attention back to her. “Rodney, we aren’t trying to attack you. You are one of the most important men on Atlantis, and we can’t afford to lose you. But all the same, every day you’re sliding further away. I’ve ordered Carson to see Kate, and I’m going to do the same for you.”

Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes. "And that's going to solve this problem with my genetic code, how exactly? Please tell me this great revelation you've had about the source of my problems."

"This isn't about that. It's about making sure that when Carson does find a cure, you're still together enough to appreciate it. When was the last time you had a decent meal, or slept through the night? You need to talk to someone, and Kate is the most qualified, if you don't want to talk to myself, or John."

"I am talking to you and oh, look! I'm feeling better already, so if it's all the same to you, I think I'll get back to work." This time he managed to get to his feet. He didn't have the time or the patience for this.

"Rodney, sit down." Sheppard's voice was weary.

McKay found himself back in the chair, sitting down a little harder than he anticipated, the sudden stop jolting him a little, kicking his anger up another notch.

“I’m sorry, Rodney," Elizabeth said, her voice that frustratingly calm and level tone she used with alien diplomats who might be crazy. "But I am going to insist. And I will be following up to make sure that you do see Kate, and that you follow through on her suggestions. This is the same order I gave to Carson, so you aren’t alone in this. And the same consequence stands, as well. If I don’t feel like you can do your job, I will temporarily place you on leave.”

McKay felt his eyes widening as she spoke. "You don't think I'm capable of doing my job? What the hell have I been doing then? Oh, yes, I remember now, I’ve been working and doing my job. What a concept. Even with Major Fido and Colonel Clifford dodging my every step I can still manage to run my department."

"I'm not saying you can't do your job, Rodney. I'm saying I'm afraid doing it under these conditions is starting to break you, and I don't want to see that happen."

"Break me?" He chuckled humorlessly. "Do you know what's breaking me? It's having a guard dog every minute of every hour ever goddamned day. I can't even wipe my ass without Major Fido asking if I'm okay, or asking me if someone gave me an order to do that or if I'm doing it of my own free will. I'd like to see you try and do your job with a smile while dealing with that." Weir winced at his words, but he didn't care.

It was Sheppard who answered him, quietly. "If you don't want him there, I'll pull him off. I don't want anyone to fuck with your head, but if you want to try it again without him, you can."

Rodney turned on him. "What do you think, Sheppard? What would you like if you were in my place?"

"I'd have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I'd be chafing as much at the restrictions as you are, but on the other, I'd want to know there was someone there to watch my six and provide back-up when I needed it most." John was matter of fact, and didn't drop his eyes.

"It's been weeks… _weeks_ since the incident and nothing's happened. And after constant company the entire time, I'd settle for the first option."

Granted, Rodney thought, that was if you didn't mention anything about the Trust agent that had him lying to his friends, trapping him in a nightmare. Rodney would rather tell them that he wanted a guard, protection from Kramer, but he can't. He's too independent to ask for help. It's not like him. And Kramer had been very specific—no one was to guess that anything was wrong. Rodney had no choice but to make sure every action, everything he did, was exactly as it should be—not that there were normal reactions when it came to something like this.

Elizabeth's steady gaze held him. "I'll agree to that if you'll agree to see Kate and actually follow her advice."

"Fine." He'd say anything to get away from them.

"Make the appointment within the next few days Rodney. No putting it off." She sighed. "And my door is always open. If you just need someone to listen while you talk, feel free to come find me, any time of the day or night."

"Yes, yes, I know all that, Elizabeth." He waved his hand in the air. "Are we done?"

Elizabeth looked like she wanted to say more, but finally sat back, rubbing one hand across the bridge of her nose. “Yes, you can go if you want to.”

Sheppard gave him an inscrutable look. "So I guess this means you won't come eat dinner with me? Or just chocolate cake?"

"Sorry, Colonel, but right now some alone time is the only thing I'm looking for," he said honestly. "Although, you telling me I'm free to go would be a good thing or else I'll be spending the next eternity in Weir's office."

John blinked, then grinned a bit sheepishly. "I keep forgetting about that. Sorry. Yeah, you can leave. But before you do, is there any way to fix a headset so it only receives calls from certain frequencies or something? So you can wear one, but only get calls from senior staff, and maybe Zelenka?"

"Of course," he replied, brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Without Lorne, you won't have a way to communicate with us in case of an emergency. But if you can rig a headset to just be in contact with us, I'll feel a bit better. I don't like having anyone in the city out of comm range if I can help it."

"Yes yes. That's easy. It's the main console that controls access to the headsets. The remote radios only respond to what the main system tells them to."

"Why don't we take care of that quickly? Then you can go off and enjoy some solitude."

Rodney rolled his eyes as he rose to his feet. "Fine." He moved toward the door as it slid open, Sheppard climbing to his feet and following him into the control room. He headed to the console, the tech moving out of the way at the wave of Sheppard's hand.

"So," he said, pulling up his record in the system. "You want incoming calls to me from who?"

"Me, Elizabeth, Lorne, Beckett, Teyla, Ronon, and Zelenka. We're the only ones who would be contacting you in an emergency."

He nodded, changing the settings and programming in the correct ones. "Outgoing would be unchanged, I'm guessing."

John hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, but be careful. I'd suggest not calling anyone unless absolutely necessary, just in case, until we figure out who messed with you."

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes again as he closed out the preferences and moved back to the main window. It seemed like he was doing the eye roll thing a lot lately. Although, everyone seemed to be more stupid than normal, so maybe that was it.

Sheppard's hand came up to squeeze his shoulder. "Be careful. Finding you in that closet, you almost gave me a heart attack. I'm sorry if I got a little over-protective."

Rodney barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, but he did manage to get out from under John's hand. "If there's nothing else, Colonel, I'd like to be on my way."

"Yeah. I guess."

He nodded, heading off down the stairs and for the first time in nearly two weeks, Rodney walked by himself through the halls of Atlantis.

It was wonderful.

He walked for close to an hour before ending up at the doors to his quarters feeling tired. Maybe tonight he'd be able to sleep. Maybe he'd be tired enough that the dreams wouldn't chase him.

He wasn't expecting to find Kramer sitting at the desk in his room.

"Rodney. Sit down. I heard the good news that your guardian angel was called off. Excellent."

He wanted to turn around and walk out of the room, but his feet took him forward, sitting him on the edge of his bed. "What do you want?" he asked, the question pushed out through gritted teeth.

The smile he was beginning to hate was back. "I wanted to praise you for being a good little slave and getting rid of the major obstacle I was having. That was quite self-starting of you."

"It wasn’t for your benefit."

"Everything you do is for my benefit. In fact, you were supposed to think of ways to please me. What have you come up with? I want to hear what you want to do for me."

Rodney paled but then flushed instantly, his mouth opening, but nothing came out.

"You will tell me. Speak now."

And he did, for close to an hour he spoke, his voice getting rough and tired at the end as he told him everything, every little detail. He stumbled during some of the more…intimate explanations, his face flushing bright red, the heat of his cheeks only heightening his embarrassment.

His mind had come up with situations and scenarios that only a genius could, all the pros and cons weighted and considered until everything was outlined down to the minutest detail, his brain using the most expanded definition of the word "please" to come up with scenarios. He needed a less active imagination.

Rodney finally stopped, his eyes wide, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, his gaze fixed somewhere to the left of Kramer who'd sat silent the entire time, simply listening.

"Very good." He was practically purring. "And who would have thought Rodney McKay would be a bit of sensualist. I must admit, some of that hadn't occurred to me, but perhaps later, I'll let you explore some of these fantasies of yours. As a reward for being such a good little boy, you get to sleep tonight. When I leave, you will get into bed and sleep for eight hours straight, with no dreams. Tomorrow you can resume thinking of new ways to please me."

Rodney groaned, grateful for the permission to sleep, but hating that he had to get it. "Do I even want to know what else you're going to order me to do?"

Kramer eyed him for a moment. Then he gestured to the floor in front of him. "I do believe that from now on, when we are alone, you should be kneeling on the floor before me."

"What!"

"You're coming along quite nicely, but I don't think you fully appreciate your situation. I am your master, and you belong to me now. Kneel."

McKay found himself moving, getting into the position Kramer had ordered, kneeling in the exact spot he'd indicated with his initial gesture. Rodney fumed, his knees already protesting. His body was shaking in fear and anger, his mind whirling in an ever-increasing pace. There had to be a way to beat him, beat this, to get around the stupid programming. Right now though, he had no choice but to obey, resisting as much as he could along the way. "You're never going to get away with this," he growled.

A hand grasped his chin, forcing him to look Kramer in the eye. "I already have. Your password has given the Trust access to more information than I could have obtained alone in a year. My counterpart in the SGC has already started funneling the information from the secure databases to our superiors. In another few weeks, the Trust will have all the information contained in Atlantis. Thanks to you. And you will smile and thank me for allowing you to be of such service. In fact, I think I'd like to hear you say it now."

Rodney gritted his teeth as if that would stop the words from leaving his mouth, but it didn't help. His lips moved, the words spilling forth. "Thank you for letting me be of service to you."

"I didn't believe you, Rodney. You need to make me believe it."

He looked at the other man, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're insane."

The hand tightened on his chin. "That wasn't a request."

Rodney took a breath, closing his eyes. "Thank you for letting me serve you."

"Keep going."

Opening his eyes, Rodney looked at Kramer, his right hand locked around the other man's wrist in an effort to dislodge it. "Keep going, what? I said what you wanted to hear. What else do you want?"

"Drop your hand. You will not attempt to physically prevent me from doing whatever I want. You are merely parroting my words, Rodney. I know you can be more creative than that, as the last hour has shown. Make me believe you are pleased to serve me, and I'll let you sleep for the night."

His hand dropped to his side, his insides clenching as Kramer's hand tightened on his chin.

He leaned in, getting into Rodney's personal space. "You are property now. My property. I am going to very much enjoy breaking you to my will. Your ego, your arrogance, where are they now? Beg, McKay. Beg me to leave and let you sleep."

Rodney choked back a sob, closing his eyes. "Please, I've done everything you've asked, everything you've ordered. I need to sleep. God, I'm so tired…"

"Good boy." The hand left his face, and he heard Kramer stand. "I'll be leaving now. Remember your standing orders. Sleep well, Rodney." The sound of door closing let him know he was finally alone.

McKay dropped his head to his chest as soon as he was alone, another sob threatening to escape. Finally, some undetermined time later, he managed to crawl to his bed and climb in, using what little energy he had to pull his boots from his feet, tugging the covers up over his uniform-clad body.

How could he face anyone after this? Atlantis was compromised and he'd done it, giving Kramer access to anything and everything he wanted. There had to be a way for him to fight back. He was a genius. He could find it. He had to find it.

Curling into a ball, sleep came slowly, but for the first time in days he slept, the nightmares finally at bay.

***

 

Carson knocked on the door, trying not to fidget, and forcing himself not to take the opportunity to flee before Kate let him in. He really didn’t want to do this. But he didn’t want to be forced off-duty either, and he knew Elizabeth had been serious when she had threatened him with it. So he stayed, and waited for the door to open.

It took nearly a minute before it did, revealing the smiling face of the base psychologist, Kate Heightmeyer. "Carson, come in. You're right on time."

"Aye. Right. Inside." Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold, and looked around. He realized he had never actually been to her office before. Figuring the small couch was a safe place to sit, he made his way over to it. "So, I've never actually done one of these before."

She smiled lightly, settling into the chair across from him. "There's nothing to worry about. We're just here to talk about some of the issues you seem to be having and to see if we can work through them together." She paused, regarding him carefully for a moment. "Would you like some tea? I was going to make myself a cup."

"That would be lovely, thank you." He watched her make the tea, and mentally went through his defenses again. He knew he would have to give a few things up, but there were some subjects he really didn't want to touch on. Taking the tea as she sat back down, and they stared at each other for a minute. "So, ah, what would you like to know?"

"Actually, we can talk about whatever you'd like. Doctor Weir only mentioned that you would be speaking with me. I was hoping you'd tell me what was bothering you."

He eyed her for a moment. "Can I be honest with you? I'm only here because Elizabeth threatened to remove me from active duty if I didn't come. I have a great deal of respect for you and what you do, but its my job to comfort and heal others, and part of that is not letting them see me hurt, or afraid, or anything except calm, steady and sure. The thought of letting down those walls is more than a bit terrifying."

She nodded, her eyes compassionate, not judging him at all. "I can understand that on a personal level. We're both in the health profession; each of us trying to care for and repair the damage life can do to our patients. But there comes a time when even the strong must repair the small tears we accumulate."

"I don't think I'm strong, not really. I just have a job to do, that I have to do. Every person I lose hurts, and it's worse in a small community like this one, where I know all my patients by name. When someone's hurt, they want to know their doctor isn't panicking, that he's going to do what's needed and stay calm. They need someone to be strong so they don't have to; otherwise the fight to save them is over before I even begin."

"But you don't see yourself as others do, Carson," Kate said, leaning forward, handing him his tea before she clutched her own mug between her hands. "You are strong, probably one of the strongest people here and one of the most caring. We all value you because of that." She paused, letting the words sink in before she continued. "Now, I know talking about personal issues is never an easy thing to do, but sharing it with someone can help to make the burden lighter."

He gave a nervous laugh, feeling himself blush slightly at the praise. "I'm used to being in your position. I can'na always offer the advice, but I'm usually the one offering the comfort and being the willing ear." He glanced out her window, taking comfort in the familiar sight of the city. She seemed willing to let him take his time. Finally, he looked down at his hands. "I can'na sleep any more, not without pushing myself to exhaustion. Drugs are out of the question, since I can'na risk being foggy if there's an emergency."

"That's understandable," she said quietly, nodding. "Is there something keeping you awake?"

"You mean other than the constant threat of the Wraith, watching people I can't save die on a regular basis, being asked to create genetic inoculations that end up killing off whole populations, or having one of my best friends convinced I didn't try hard enough to stop an insane computer from manipulating his DNA?" He gave her a tired smile.

She waited a moment, pursing her lips before she spoke. "I'm thinking it's the last one that's been of most concern to you lately."

"Aye, I wouldn't disagree with you. He's right though. There had to have been something else I could have done. It was my body, I should'na have lost control of it so easily."

"So what happened?"

He jerked, then tried to cover for it by taking a sip of tea. "You read the mission reports I assume. The system was holding Rodney and Teyla, and I was a bloody idiot and ended up plugged into the system, which then used me to manipulate Rodney."

"Did you intend for it to happen?"

"Of course not! What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just trying to understand the chain of events," she said, leaning back in her chair, her eyes focused past him. "You went to the planet because Doctor McKay requested your presence and then once you were there, events snowballed until you discovered that three of you—yourself, Teyla, and Doctor McKay—were trapped by a system that no one could escape from—at least initially." She glanced back at him. "Am I correct so far?"

He wasn't sure where this was going, but decided to cautiously follow along. "Aye. The Colonel and I went exploring a bit to try and find the power source, while Rodney worked on downloading the database. Teyla stayed with him, and the next thing we knew, the bloody thing had them both in cages, and we couldn't get back in fast enough."

"And you tried to fight it."

He closed his eyes, the memory of how it had felt to have access to the knowledge, of how it had slipped in and slowly blurred the lines between what was him and what wasn't. The searing pain when he had tried to fight back. He wasn't even aware that he was shaking, lost for a moment.

"Carson?" Kate's hand was on his arm, the touch light.

He twitched, but the touch gave him something to focus on. "Lass. I...I'm sorry. Yes. I tried to fight. It just...did'na do much good."

"Are you sure you're alright, that you can continue?"

He didn't answer right away, consciously working his way down his body and forcing the tight muscles to relax, placing his tea on the small table next to the chair. "This is what happens every time I try to sleep."

"I can't imagine what you went through, but knowing you, I know you probably did everything you could to try and get control of the situation, didn't you?

He debated stopping this now. Walking out, and claiming he couldn't do this, not right now. But something in him knew he needed to get this worked out. When he did speak, it was barely a whisper. "I don't know. By that point, I've no idea what was me and what wasn't. I was part of the system, and what was left of me was in so much pain..."

Kate was quiet for a long moment, letting him compose himself a little before she continued. "Are you angry?"

"Angry? I don't know, to be honest. If anything, I'm angry at myself for not being stronger. It was a computer system. A sophisticated one to be sure, but a program, nonetheless. And I could'na stop it from taking over my mind and body. What does that say about me?"

"It says you're human." She paused again, pursing her lips, taking a sip of her tea. "How do you think Doctor McKay feels about the situation?"

"I don't think, I know. He's frustrated, angry, and chafing at the restrictions this places on him. And at some level he blames me for it, and I can'na help but agree with him."

"Why?"

He got up, and paced over to the window, looking out, but not really seeing anything. "Because it is my fault. I'm the one who gave him the gene therapy that caused the system to see him as an experiment. I stopped him from hacking the system before it completely took over. I even stopped Sheppard from shooting it, which would have ended everything quite a bit sooner. He blames me because it's my fault. All of it."

"Then you must blame him as well."

"Why would I blame him? He was an innocent bystander this time."

"If it wasn't for Doctor McKay's demand that you go off-world, you would have never been placed in that kind of position, something you admit was a terrifying and painful situation."

"It was a genetics lab, and I'm the top geneticist in Atlantis. He demanded I go, yes, but I would have gone without that. I might not like going off-world, but I know and agree that the top specialist of whatever field is needed should be sent when situations like this arise. No, it is'na Rodney's fault any of this happened. It's mine."

"How is it your fault? It was Doctor McKay who put you into that situation. He was already downloading the database and could have brought it back to Atlantis for study—as Colonel Sheppard suggested, but he demanded you join the team off-world. So, in essence, Doctor McKay's actions are what resulted in his current condition."

He turned, looking at her and allowing some of his irritation to show. "How many times are you going to force me to repeat that it was'na his fault, he was only doing what he thought best. I'm the bloody weak-minded idiot who lost control and allowed a computer to damage his best friend."

"Did anyone say you were weak-minded?"

He dropped his eyes. "They don't have to. I already know it."

"Why do you think that?"

He shook his head, suddenly tired of this and not wanting to reveal anything more. He had already said more than he had intended. "Look, I should probably get back to my lab. Thanks for the help, I'll let Elizabeth know we chatted."

"Carson, we're not finished and I'll tell Elizabeth as much when she asks." She rose to her feet, moving to her desk and her PDA. "I'd like to see you again tomorrow."

He felt his face fall slightly, although he regained control quickly. "What? No. I... Look, I'll cut the sleeping pills in half and set aside some time to sleep. That's really the issue, right?"

She raised an eyebrow toward him. "No, Carson, that's just a symptom and I think you're well aware of what happens when you only treat the symptoms of a problem."

He was, damn it, and it was irritating to have his own deeply ingrained ethics thrown back at him. He was starting to understand why everyone was always in such a rush to be released. Clenching his teeth, he took a few deep breaths and forced himself to ask the next question. "What do I have to do for you to fully release me?"

"I'm not sure yet," she answered finally, honestly.

"I'm a doctor, and you're appealing to me on that level. Every…illness…has a prescribed cure. I've never been one to be locked into a specific course of treatment, but I need... Something. Otherwise, even if I tell you now I'll do better, I'm honest enough to admit I'll go right back to working almost round the clock and eating only when I have to."

She sighed, holding the PDA in her hands. "Right now, you're only showing me what you want me to see. I don't…I can't see all of your symptoms yet, Carson. I can only guess at some of them. McKay plays a part in all of this and talking to him is something you're going to need to do—and soon, if the rumbles I'm hearing are true."

"I...don't think Rodney wants to see me right now. And I...don't know if I can take another scene like the one that got me ordered to come here."

"Do your patients enjoy all of the treatments you give them?"

"My patients are generally too injured or ill to worry about that. And it is'na a matter of enjoyment. It's..." He was so bloody close to losing control, and Atlantis couldn't afford that. Talking to Rodney, having that thrown in his face again, would be too much. "Can we at least work up to that?"

She inclined her head. "That's fine." She glanced down, her fingernail clicking against the PDA's screen. "What time is good for you tomorrow? How about just after you come off shift?"

He gave a short, ironic laugh. "If you wait for me to come off shift, you'll be waiting all night."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're supposed to be working normal shift hours according to Doctor Weir. So, will 1800 work?"

"What? Are you telling me I'm being forced to stop working at 1800? Why? I've got a curfew now?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Carson," Kate said, her voice taking on a hint of exasperation. "Right now I'm trying to schedule an appointment at a time your schedule says you're supposed to be off-duty."

"I'm never off-duty."

"According to your schedule, you are. Don't press me on this, Carson."

He ran one hand through his hair. "I'm not pressing, just noting the fact that despite what the schedule says, I work, on average, twenty of our twenty-seven-hour days, occasionally more. I have a certain amount of time I need to spend in the infirmary dealing with patients and the day-to-day issues, and I need to get lab time in as well; I need to find a way to reverse the changes to Rodney."

"Take that up with Doctor Weir."

"She bloody well sent me here when I did!"

Kate glanced away, taking a deep breath. "Are you sure you don't want to sit down now and continue?"

He was beginning to get a headache. Rubbing at his temples, he collapsed back onto the couch, suddenly very tired. "What else do you need to know?"

"Why are you so afraid to sleep?"

He closed his eyes, thinking maybe this would be easier if he did. "Because every time I try, I have nightmares. Exhausting myself to the point where I don't have the energy to dream is the only way to stop them."

"Have you considered trying to talk about what's keeping you awake?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He swallowed. "They're all centered around what was going on while I was merged with the system. I really don't want to talk about it."

Kate moved back to her chair, sitting down carefully, the PDA still in her hands. "What did it do to you?"

He wrapped his arms around his body, wishing this was over. "Please. I really don't want to talk about it."

Kate took a breath. "Carson, now or later, we're going to talk about it, but I'm willing to wait until you're more…comfortable discussing it. Until then, I'm going to suggest we meet daily to talk."

"I can pretty much guarantee I'll never be comfortable talking about it." He took a deep breath, unconsciously curling into himself on the couch. "It...merged with me. At first it was just information. Rewiring my brainwaves to understand the Ancient text."

"Merged?" She leaned forward, her eyes compassionate.

He started to shake, remembering what it had felt like. He didn't want to remember. "I don't think... Please.... No..."

Kate's hand was on his arm, grounding him. "Carson, you're fine. Nothing's happening to you. It's just a memory."

He really hated this. Forcing himself to open his eyes, he gave her what he hoped passed for a smile. "So, 1800 tomorrow?"

Her hand left his arm and she moved around the room, pausing at her desk to write something on a pad. She returned a moment later, a piece of paper finding its way into his hand. "I think that would be a good idea, Carson," she said. "But I'm also prescribing some sleeping pills. You'll recognize the drug and you will take them as prescribed."

He felt his eyes widen. "No. I appreciate the thought, but I can't risk it. Do you have any idea how many times a team has stumbled through the gate in the middle of the night with an emergency? I have to be ready to get up and go to work at any time of the day or night."

"You have a good staff. Right now, you're under doctor's care and my report will read as such."

He stared at her. "You're putting me on medical leave?"

"No. Right now I don't think there's a need to put you on medical leave if you can follow some basic instructions." She paused, eyeing him carefully. "Can you?"

He was the Chief Medical Officer. He could override her. Except, of course, that Elizabeth would back Kate this time, and he knew it. Glancing at the prescription, though, he felt his eyes widen again. "No. Not these. Not this strength. I understand I need to sleep, but I don't have eight to ten hours a night to devote to sleep."

"I can put you on medical leave if you'd rather," she snapped, immediately looking away. "Carson, right now you need sleep and I'm trying to let you work because I know it's important, but you're about ready to crash and burn and I'm…we're…trying to stop that from happening."

"I know," he said quietly. "And I appreciate it. I have an amazing staff that I trust, but the thought of taking these and being too fuzzy to do anything if there is an emergency terrifies me. I don't know if I can let go."

"Carson, you'll be fine. Trust them and trust us. That's what we're asking."

He stared at the prescription in his hand for a long time, weighing his options. It was knowing that, as a doctor, he expected his patients to obey, that finally made him agree. If he didn't follow medical advice, how could he expect anyone else to? "All right. But can we take it one night at a time? Please?"

"We can do that," she said, nodding. "We'll take this one step at a time on your pace. Okay?"

With a sigh, he rose. "Aye. Thank you, lass. I know I'm not the easiest patient, and I din'na want to be here, but I appreciate that you just want to help."

"Carson."

He ignored the note in her voice, needing to get out of here. His chest was tight, and he needed room to breathe. "But that's what they say, isn't it? That doctors make the worst patients?"

"Carson, make sure you work a regular shift—no more than ten hours—and get a good night's sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right. I'll just be...I'm free to go now, right?"

"Yes," she said, offering a smile. "I'd recommend eating dinner and relaxing tonight, but I know that may be asking a lot."

"The dinner yes, the relaxing, not so much. See you tomorrow then." He paused outside the door, mentally bringing up all his professional walls, surrounding himself with the calm facade he knew people needed to see. Once those were in place, he started for the mess. He could get dinner and eat in his room. Then he could decide if he was going to take the sleeping pill or not. It was going to be a long night.

***

It was amazing the kind of perspective a full night's sleep would give you, Rodney thought. He'd woken up in the morning refreshed and energetic, bounding into the labs and working his scientists into a sweat.

Also, not being trailed by a military grunt all day reminded of what it felt like to actually be an adult, instead of trying to convince everyone that he was one. He didn't even see Ronon or Teyla, but that didn't mean they weren't there. At least, they weren't making a pest of themselves.

But being clear-headed also gave him the ability to think and he was going to use the hours he had today to the best of his ability—even if it killed him in the long run.

"Hey, Zelenka, when's the last time we did a password change on the main servers?"

The Czech didn't even look up, too used to Rodney's ability to switch between subjects rapidly. "Last time was six months ago I believe."

"About time, isn't it?"

"Is this your way of telling me you wish me to change the passwords?"

Rodney kept his eyes on his computer screen. "Elizabeth sent me an email before about some of the security protocols and it reminded me."

"I will have Miko run the protocols. New passwords will be sent via the secure mail system this afternoon."

"Good." Rodney smiled to himself. He could honestly say he didn't change them.

The lab doors swished open, and an almost hesitant Major Lorne stepped into view. "Um, hey."

"And what a way to ruin what had been looking like a promising day," Rodney said, allowing annoyance to cross his face. He still had things he needed to do.

"Actually, I'm off duty, and I'm not staying." A faint blush stained the soldier's cheeks. "After two weeks of constant companionship, I thought I would never want to see you again, but believe it or not, I missed being insulted. I thought I'd come check on you before I head up to lunch. You know, make sure you had everything you need"

"And look," Rodney said, waving his hand, "I'm here, I'm working, and nothing has changed since you were here yesterday."

"Yeah." Lorne sighed. "All right then."

"Actually, Major," Radek said, stopping Lorne from leaving. "If you have a minute…"

The look on the major's face was almost pathetic. "Sure! I mean, if the Doc doesn't mind."

"Whatever," Rodney waved his hand, going back to his computer.

"I have several devices that I need to test," Radek said. "If you sit, we can go through them in a few minutes."

"Okay. Just point me at what you want turned on."

Radek and Lorne worked, the low tone of their conversation rolling over Rodney, fading until it was background noise. He needed them to check the integrity of the data burst to Earth, but it couldn't track back to him. There had to be a way to get them to dig into the systems, to see that there was some abnormalities, but anything he thought of, any plan he came up with, all circled back to him.

It was going to take a few days to do that kind of subtle work and the next data burst back to the SGC was two days from now. Who knows how much information was being funneled back to the Earth that wasn't supposed to be.

At some point, Lorne left the labs, leaving a happily humming Czech behind. Rodney was able to work in peace for a while before soldier number two wandered in. "Hey, McKay. I hear through the grapevine that you skipped lunch. Interested in taking a break and raiding the mess?"

"Not really, no," he said, eyes still fixed on the computer monitor.

Sheppard was quiet for a moment before moving close enough to talk without being overheard. "Make your appointment with Heightmeyer yet?"

"Hmm, what?" he asked, looking up at the other man. "No. Been busy."

"You know Elizabeth will only give you a day or two before she'll follow through on her threat."

"I'll get around to it as soon as the idiots I work with stop trying to blow us up on a daily basis," he said, turning back to the computer. "If you came here to annoy me you can leave now, I have a staff that does that already."

"Actually, I came to see what you're doing tonight. We haven't had a team movie night in a while, and at the last re-supply I got a few new DVDs. We can introduce Ronon and Teyla to the pure genius that is 'Star Wars'."

"I think I'll pass."

"Aw, come on. You can even mock the shameful science they use. It'll be fun."

"Sheppard," Rodney finally said, sighing. "I'm really not in the mood and I have an immense amount of work to do. Another night?"

Sheppard finally nodded. "All right. But I'm holding you to that. I'll catch you later then." With a wave to Radek, he finally left.

The lab was quiet for the rest of the afternoon. Rodney ended up running to the mess to grab a quick dinner and returning to his office to work. In a strange spurt of energy, he'd re-arranged the furniture again after dinner, putting things where they should be.

Radek had stopped in around 2000, waving goodnight as he headed out for the evening. It seemed he was going to movie night in his place. It might be better in the long run, Rodney thought absently, turning back to his laptop.

"Trying to hide, Rodney?" A very amused British voice washed over him.

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. "No," he finally managed to get out as the other man stepped into his office. "Some of us work for a living."

"Ah yes, keeping Atlantis safe for the governments who don't know what to do with what they have." Kramer settled himself in one of Rodney's guest chairs.

"Better than stealing classified information and hiding what you really are."

"Now, now, you aren't getting snippy with me, are you? Because I would hate to have to punish you for insolence."

Rodney glared but didn't comment.

Kramer merely smirked at him. "How did you sleep last night, Rodney?"

He paused a moment before replying. "Very well."

"And what would you be willing to do for another one?"

"If it were my choice, nothing at all. I've done enough already," he said, this time not holding back the anger he felt. The fear, though, he was trying to keep to himself. There was no need for Kramer to know about that part.

Kramer's gaze sharpened. "It occurs to me that last night's lesson doesn't appear to have had any impact." He glanced up as a scientist scurried past the open door. "Shut down your laptop, Rodney, and go to your room. You will be there on your knees waiting for me in ten minutes."

The pit in his stomach tightened. He'd have an ulcer before long, he knew it. He was already shutting down his machine, closing out programs and documents mid-sentence. "Fine," he said, forcing out the word even as his traitorous mind and body responded.

Kramer rose, watching Rodney's actions. "Be ready for me." He then turned and left.

Muttering under his breath, he finished the shut down and closed the lid of the laptop. Striding from the room, he nearly walked into Lorne who was headed in.

"Hey, McKay! What's the rush?" Lorne reached out to grab his elbow and keep him from falling into the wall.

"Places to go, people to see. You know how it is," he said, trying to get away, but the major stopped him again. He was a dead man.

"Is everything okay? You look a little pale. Maybe you should come down to the infirmary with me, and let Beckett look you over."

"I'm fine, I'm just in the middle of three things," he said, disengaging his arm from Lorne's grip. "You know how things get when I multi-task."

"Yeah. Look, at the risk of sounding incredibly stupid, after so much of your company, I'm finding I can't go cold turkey. I don't suppose you'd be interested in kicking my ass in a round or two of chess? Then, I swear I'll leave you alone."

"Like I told Sheppard before, not tonight. Honestly, right now all I want to do is finish what I'm working on and go to bed. Okay?"

Lorne's shoulders slumped. "All right."

"Go invade the media room. Sheppard's having a team night. They're watching 'Star Wars'," he said, managing to get near the door.

"I'm not part of your team."

"Neither is Radek and he's there. Just go. He won't turn you away, trust me."

Lorne looked at him carefully. "Why don't I walk with you for a minute? Maybe the exercise will do me some good, and then I'll try heading to bed."

McKay wanted to scream. "You are not following me to the bathroom, Major, which is exactly where I'm headed. So if you don't mind…"

"Are you sure everything's okay? Because honestly, something here doesn't feel right." Lorne's expression was full of concern.

"When my bowels explode then things will definitely not be all right. Good night, Major," he said, the doors opening, the light from the lab spilling into the hall. As soon as Lorne was out of sight, Rodney started to run.

When he finally made it to his room, Kramer was standing propped against the wall in the corner. He did not look pleased. "On your knees."

Panting from his run, he stumbled over to where Kramer indicated, his body dropping into place, his knees hitting hard. He'd be bruised in the morning.

"Why did you disobey me?" The tone was hard and unforgiving.

"Lorne stopped me in the lab and I couldn't get rid of him faster without giving you away. As it is, he's suspicious something's going on."

"Unacceptable. You are the one who claims to be the smartest man in two galaxies. You should be able to get rid of a stupid soldier without any trouble."

"It's the truth. Would you rather I told him I was meeting you?" Rodney replied, spitting out the words as he tried to catch his breath.

Kramer's eyes narrowed, and he picked up a long, slender pole from where it had been propped up behind him. "I saw this in the botany labs and thought it would make an excellent teaching tool. Given your level of…disobedience…it seems I was correct to bring it. Take off your shirt."

"What the hell are you going to do?" he asked, voice trembling even as he obeyed, his jacket and shirt coming off quickly, the air cool against his heated skin.

Kramer paced around behind him. "I needed something that would cause pain without breaking the skin. A whip would have bloodied you and been too easy for someone to discover. A switch, however, was made for exactly what I need." A sudden lash left a painful sting across Rodney's shoulder.

Rodney yelled and turned around, trying to shield himself. "It's not my fault."

Kramer's switch lashed out and caught him across the chest. "Turn back around. I thought I had made it clear that you will never attempt to stop me from doing what I wish. You will hold still and take what I choose to give you."

He yelped loudly, the pain sharp and he turned around, facing the bed as Kramer paced behind him. "It's not my fault," he said through clenched teeth. "Lorne stopped me. I was trying to protect you. Maybe next time I'll take him up on his offer to walk me home."

"You should have tried harder. And you will not yell so loudly. Someone might hear you." Several more lashes bit into his back.

"It hurts," he finally said, several yelps later—quieter, but not by much.

"Then perhaps you should begin trying to apologize to me. This will end when I am convinced you are sorry for the impertinence, and that it will not happen again."

"I can't predict who's going to walk into the science labs and ask to talk to me. I'm an important person," he protested. "People aren't predictable and I haven't figured out how to mind-read yet."

The lashes got harder, biting deeper into his skin, although Kramer didn't say anything else.

Rodney panted in pain, each strike met with a yell in equal measure. Maybe someone would hear. Maybe someone would stop this insanity.

Kramer paused for a moment. "I do believe you are attempting to circumvent yet another order. You are still yelling. In fact, other than the apology I am still waiting for, you are not to make any noise whatsoever." Then the lashes started again.

The screams stuck in his throat, a strangled sob the only thing leaving his mouth. During a pause he tried to apologize, but it was hard. It hurt. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again," he finally managed to get out, the words laced with pain.

"I'm going to need more than that, Rodney. I think you know that."

"I'm sorry I was late, that I was unable to follow your orders," he said, thankful for the break in the beating. He swore he could feel several places where Kramer had broken the skin. He sucked in a breath, his eyes closed tight. "It won't happen again."

Another lash across his shoulder. Almost in the same place as the first one. "Why won't it happen again?"

Rodney grunted but didn't scream. "Because you said so."

Several more hard stings, the Kramer leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I am your Master. You are my slave. Thank me for taking such good care of you, for taking the time to teach you humility."

Rodney whimpered, but nodded. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you for taking care of me, for teaching me. I'm sorry I let you down."

Kramer came around where he could see his face. He reached out, capturing Rodney's chin with his hand. "Now, was that so hard?"

He didn't answer, instead, using the reprieve to take in gulps of air to try to ignore the pain in his back. He was going to be sore for days. How the hell was he going to hide this?

The cruel smile curved Kramer's lips once more. "I think that's enough for tonight. Tomorrow, you will let no hint that you are in pain show, and every time you move, it will be a reminder of what happens when you disobey, even unintentionally."

"Can you at least bandage part of it?" he finally asked, meeting Kramer's eye. "I can't reach."

"No. I'm afraid that will have to be part of your punishment. Consider that your reward for your attitude. Perhaps if you behaved better, you would receive better treatment." Kramer rose, holding the switch in his hands. "And remember, every time you feel the need to rebel, you will get reacquainted with this."

"I'm bleeding," he whined.

"Then I suggest you take a shower before getting in bed. Have a pleasant evening."

"Wait, please," Rodney said, turning with a hiss, his back and knees protesting. "Sleep. I can sleep, right?"

Kramer paused just before the door, looking back at him. "I will break you, Rodney. You have a strong spirit, but that's only going to make it sweeter when you beg me for my favor. You can sleep lying on your back, and in no other position. If you find that impossible, I'm afraid you'll just have to do without tonight."

"What?"

"That means exactly what it sounds like. You can either sleep on your back, or not sleep at all."

"Are you trying to let everyone know something's wrong with me?"

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem, since even if you don't sleep, you will behave as if you did. You will let no one know of your discomfort, either from your back or your exhaustion. One sleepless night won't hurt you, especially since you were able to rest last night. And you do have an option if that becomes too much. I'll see you tomorrow, and perhaps you will treat me with more respect. Good night."

Rodney's head dropped down, his chin hitting his chest, the muscles in his back protesting as they pulled, as Kramer stepped into the hall, turning out the lights with a mental command as he left.

McKay tried to turn them back up, but they refused to budge, leaving the room lit from the external lights of Atlantis, casting long cool shadows on the floor.

It took him a long time to get the energy to move, hissing in pain as he slowly made his way to the bathroom. He needed to clean the cuts before he could try and apply the topical analgesic he had in the bathroom.

Even the shower water was agony.

He dried off and treated the cuts and welts as best he could, popping several painkillers from the medical kit he kept in his room before heading to bed.

It was going to be a long night.

***

 

Carson sat in the mess hall, staring into a cup of tea. He had given up on the coffee, it wasn’t really helping, and it was upsetting his stomach. He had no idea how the science department could live on the stuff.

He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. Kate had been clear that he wasn’t allowed to work more than a ten-hour shift, which meant he couldn’t actually go to the infirmary for another several hours, barring emergencies. He had compromised with her orders regarding sleep, cutting the pills she had prescribed in half, so for the first time in days he actually felt somewhat rested. He had eaten an early breakfast. And now he didn’t know quite what to do.

A tray dropping onto the table nearly made him jump out of his skin. He scowled as John Sheppard slid into the chair across from him. "Didn't expect to see you here," he said, pouring milk into his cereal bowl.

"You're up and about early yourself. Anything I can do for you?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Ended up falling asleep on the couch last night. I got more sleep than I normally do, and I think it's making me jumpy."

Sipping at his tea, Carson nodded. "Aye, I'm feeling about the same. I have'na gotten that much sleep in a few weeks now. And I've been forbidden to go to work yet, so I'm at a bit of loose ends right now."

The colonel's eyebrow rose, but he dug into his cereal instead, letting the silence grow between them. "You seen Rodney lately?" he finally asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Not since the meeting." He hoped Sheppard would drop it. After last night's session, he really wasn't in the mood to go there. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"For me? Paperwork. Prepping for a mission. One of Teyla's tava bean farmers, I think." He rolled his eyes. "I also have to finish up some reports for tomorrow's data burst. How's the research going?"

He shrugged. "It's going. There's still a lot of sequencing to be done. We can't proceed until we have every portion of this section of Rodney's DNA mapped out. Fortunately, I have a clean set of his workup to compare against, which means we can move a bit faster. Without that, it would be almost impossible to determine what had been changed."

"Grateful for small favors, eh Carson?"

"Aye, and you all thought I was nuts when I required everyone to file a sample with me at the beginning of this bloody expedition."

Sheppard shrugged, sipping his coffee again. "At that point we'd been poked and prodded so many times…" His mouth twitched, the corner rising. "Anything else on the agenda for you"?

He grimaced slightly. "Nae. I'll work on that most of the day, make my rounds in the infirmary, and per orders, I've been told I have to stop at 1800 for another appointment with Kate. I din'na suppose you could talk to Elizabeth about that?"

John's hand paused, a spoonful of cereal on its way to his mouth, his eyes wide. "Carson…"

He waved his hand to indicate the man should keep eating, and sighed. "Never mind. Forget I asked."

The spoon dropped into the bowl, milk spilling over the side. "Carson, we wouldn't have insisted if we didn't think it was a good idea. We're trying to help."

"Eat. You need to gain some weight." Carson frowned at him, then relaxed his expression a bit. "And I do know that lad. However, as I pointed out to Kate, doctors make some of the worst patients in the world. As a group, we hate to give up the control over our own health like that. I'm well aware that in this case it's probably necessary, and I do appreciate the concern. Just ignore me when I start to get touchy."

"You, touchy?" Sheppard's eyebrow rose as he picked up his spoon. "Trust me, Doc, you are probably one of the mildest 'touchy' people here."

Chuckling, Carson finished off his tea before it got too cold to be palatable. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"If it made you feel better, then that's even better," he said, a spoonful of mushy cereal making its way into his mouth. He continued a beat later. "I swear McKay has something shoved up…" He broke off, shaking his head and sighing. "He turned down a viewing of 'Star Wars' last night."

He looked off somewhere beyond Sheppard's shoulder. "This is just hard on him, Colonel. His emotions are being pulled in a lot of directions right now, and my guess is that he can't get them all sorted out in his head. He's angry—he has every right to be—but at the same time, on some level he doesn't want to drive all his friends away. So he's shutting himself off from all of you in an attempt to shield you from some of that anger. Try not to take it too personally."

John's gaze dropping to his bowl and the spoon that was drifting through the milk and the few remaining pieces of cereal. "I'm not sure that's the whole reason. A part of it, yeah, sure. Hell, I can appreciate it. Losing control like that…" He sighed again. "There's something else though."

"Trust your instincts then, and keep an eye on him. Just don't be obvious about it, or you'll drive him away. I'd offer to help, but Rodney and I have our own issues to work through at the moment, and I doubt I'd be much help."

"I was actually hoping you could talk to him. You know how to…handle him better."

Carson gripped the empty mug in front of him tightly. "Right now, I'm the last person Rodney wants to see or talk to," he said quietly. "I know at some point we'll need to work through that, but for now I'm not sure either of us is ready to deal with it quite yet."

"I know, I know. After yesterdays…incident, I know I'm asking too much." He picked up his coffee, draining the last from the bottom of the mug. "I should get to my office and start on the overflowing pile in my inbox. Want to meet for lunch or dinner?"

"I wish I could help. Believe me, this is irritating me almost as much as it is you." He stood up with Sheppard, and offered a tentative smile. "Dinner would be nice. Would 1900 work for you?"

"Yeah. I have an 1800 meeting with Elizabeth and Lorne. Meet you here?"

"Aye, I have my own 1800 meeting. And here is fine. Thanks, Colonel."

"Good. Have a good day," he said, wandering out the door and toward the transporter, leaving Beckett standing in the mess, his tea cup in hand.

He watched Sheppard leave, then went over and put the cup with the dirty dishes to be cleaned. Glancing at his watch, he was irritated to note the conversation had only killed a half-hour. He still needed to find something to keep himself occupied until he could work. Thinking vaguely that a walk might do him some good, he started heading in the direction of the piers.

"Doctor Beckett?"

Startled out of his reverie, he turned around, surprised to see Major Lorne jogging up behind him. "Aye?"

"Have you seen Sheppard?"

"He just left. I believe he was headed for his office if you need him."

"Crap…ah, great. Thanks, Doc," he said, dashing off in the opposite direction.

Raising an eyebrow, Carson shook his head, and turned, intent on continuing his walk.

He meandered for a while, surprised to find himself walking through the science department, several scientists puttering about, lost in their own worlds. His name, said with a British accent, got his attention just before he reached the transporter at the far end of the section.

He only vaguely recognized the man as one of the new people. "Aye, can I help you?"

He approached slowly, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I saw you walking through…"

"You aren't bothering me at all. I was just out for a walk. What can I do for you?"

"I know you might not be able to talk about this, but I had some questions about Doctor McKay."

Carson shook his head. "I'm afraid that falls under the heading of patient confidentiality. If he chooses to share something with you that's fine, but I can't give out any information about him."

The man's face fell. "Would you be able to tell me when this whole…" His hand waved before him. "Do you have any ideas when things might get back to normal? It's just sometimes hard to know what to expect with him lately."

Carson looked carefully at the man. "No, I'm afraid not, but may I ask why you want to know? He's the head of the department, yes, but you're new here, aren't you? You don't actually report directly to him, you report to Radek, correct?"

"Technically, yes, I report to Doctor Zelenka, but it seems like one of my projects has caught Doctor McKay's eye and I've been working quite closely with him." A light blush flushed his cheeks. "It's just…hard. If I know that there's an end to this whole situation, I think it will help." He paused again. "I'm really sorry to bother you, Doctor. I'll just let you go. I’m sorry—"

Carson reached out and patted the man on the arm. "I understand, this is not an easy situation for any of us. I can tell you that we're working hard on resolving the problem, so hopefully it won't be an issue for too much longer. Just try to hang in there, and try not to take anything personally."

The man chuckled. "It's hard not to, honestly." He paused again. "Are you talking days? Because that would be great if you were." His eyes were hopeful.

Carson smiled gently. "I can't give out that kind of information. If you really want to know, you'll have to ask Rodney himself. He can choose to tell you if he wants, but as his doctor, unless it's a medical emergency, I can't. I'm sorry, lad."

The scientist's face fell. "Yeah, that's liable to get my head bitten off."

He chuckled. "Just keep your head down and do your best. Rodney does notice that sort of thing. You have'na been here long enough to know, but he really does care about the city and the science staff. He might be a right beast sometimes, but he only does it to force you to go beyond what you think you're capable of."

"I guess." He paused again, eyes focused over Carson's shoulder. "You seem like you know him well. Are there any suggestions you can give me to…deal with him when he's like this?"

"We've been friends since before the original expedition, yes. We met in Antarctica at the base there. The only real advice I can give you is that the gruff exterior isn't all there is too him. Don't base your opinion of him on that, because the man inside is one of the most loyal and caring people you'd ever hope to meet, although he would deny that to his dying breath. What was your name again? I'm sorry, with things being so hectic lately, it's slipped my mind."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," he said, blushing again. "I just assumed…it's Kramer. Doctor Lance Kramer."

"No, no, I apologize. Usually I'm better with names and faces. And now I know who you are." He smiled. "You're the gentleman Major Lorne and Colonel Sheppard had me okay to work with Rodney, correct? So you're working rather closely with our resident genius then."

"Yes, that was me," Kramer nodded. "And yes, I'm working very closely with Doctor McKay. It's an…experience. I didn't expect to be involved in a project this high-level so quickly. It's a little disconcerting."

Carson's smile broadened. "Take it as a high compliment. Rodney doesn't suffer those he deems fools or idiots lightly, and the people he sees as having the most promise generally are the ones he treats to the harshest criticism. Watch him and Radek if you want a good example of that. You'd think the two of them were ready to rip each other to shreds half the time, but the reality is that they are both quite fond of one another and have a great deal of mutual respect. Rodney is pushing you because he thinks you could be great, otherwise he wouldn't waste his time thinking up good insults, he'd just use his standard stock ones."

"I guess that's good to know," Kramer said, glancing at his watch. "I should probably get back to work before I'm missed. Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your honesty. And I apologize once again for interrupting your walk."

"Not a problem. I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, and again, take Rodney's sarcasm as a compliment. I know that can be hard, but it's the truth."

Kramer inclined his head a little before moving back toward the labs. "Thanks again."

Carson nodded, then turned back to his walk. Glancing at his watch for the hundredth time, he was relieved to note it was almost time to go to work. If he was a few minutes early, no one would comment on it. Making for the infirmary, he started mentally running through his schedule, glad to finally be able to focus on the task at hand. It was time to make some progress.

***

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Rodney swore for the fiftieth time today as he crawled under another console trying to fix the mess that one Doctor Cindy Hammerstein made. If they didn't need the electrical engineer so badly, she would be tossed through the wormhole tomorrow so fast…

It had been a simple problem. Fix the relay, he'd told her.

Now, instead of one section being out, everything that was attached to the line was down—lights, consoles, everything. He had Radek and one crew working from one end and he'd taken another crew to the other end, working toward the middle. PowerBars had been his lunch and were looking as a good substitute for dinner too.

His back was killing him. The fabric of his shirt kept rubbing at the welts Kramer had so energetically given him the night before so he'd ended up dry swallowing pain relievers throughout the day just to keep it under control. But with all the crawling and bending he'd done, Rodney knew one of the cuts had started bleeding, could feel it against his skin. He hoped the small bandage was enough.

He'd actually gotten about an hour of sleep last night when he finally managed to roll onto his back—dropping from sheer exhaustion in the early hours of the morning. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep but he still had so much more to finish.

Fixing the console, he crawled out, wincing internally at his abused back before he straightened carefully. Walking into the hallway, he spotted Radek heading to the adjacent room. "Do you mean we're almost done?"

Radek looked up, squinting. He looked as tired as Rodney felt. "If you are here, then yes it seems we are. Once I have finished here, I will let you know, and we can attempt to bring everything back online, yes?"

"Yes. I have Michaels and Bronson in the room behind me. I should head back to the labs and check on the power flow to the area. Are you okay finishing up here?"

Nodding, Radek shifted his weight, gesturing bodily towards the last room. "I can handle it."

"Good, good. How long do you need?" Rodney was already several steps ahead, his mind running through the procedure once he got to the labs.

"Perhaps twenty minutes? That should give me time to do repairs here and make sure Michaels and Bronson are done as well."

"I'll radio you from the lab once I have everything set up," Rodney said, turning to grab his tools before heading to the transporter. Ten minutes later he walked into the deserted main lab, rolling his eyes. As soon as he was somewhere else, people took the time to leave. Today he just didn't have time to deal with it.

Bouncing around the room, he checked and double-checked the systems, radioing Radek when he was done, about thirty minutes after he'd left him. "McKay to Zelenka. You ready?"

The scientist replied almost immediately. "I believe so, yes. I will wait here until you have everything booted back up, in case adjustments are needed."

"I was going to suggest that. I'll power up to five percent. Let me know if everything holds." Rodney paused, his hands flying over the computer keyboard. "Okay, powering up. Five percent."

There was a long pause, then Radek came back on. "So far, we seem to be fine. Ready to go to ten percent when you are."

"Confirmed," he said, increasing the power flow. "Ten percent."

A muttered Czech curse floated back over the airwaves. "Hold here, please. One of the secondary consoles is flashing a warning."

"Holding," Rodney replied, turning to the other computer monitoring the area. "I'm not seeing the warning here so something is still not working right."

"It is the relay causing problems I believe, but it is not the primary system. One of the back-up lines is still damaged. I can bypass it for now if you wish, but we will need to put it on high priority for repairs."

"Bypass it," Rodney said. "Have Michaels and Bronson help you and have your team head home. That should take you about thirty minutes?"

"Yes, approximately. I will alert you when we are finished."

"I'll be here. McKay out."

Sighing, Rodney sat back, watching the various monitors, adjusting lines remotely. The silence was nice—especially after today. He knew as soon as Radek was done when one of the problem areas cleared.

The radio crackled to life a few seconds later. "Line is bypassed. Would you like me to remain here until we are back up to full power in this sector?"

"I'm going to do a step-up, so yes, just stay and monitor. Shouldn’t take long."

He walked through the step-up procedures, getting confirmations from Zelenka along the way until the system was back online. "Looking good on this end. I'll give Doctor Weir an update in the morning. Go home, Radek. It's nearly 1900."

"You will be retiring soon as well?"

"Need to tie up a few loose ends first, but yes. See you in the morning. McKay out."

Taking a deep breath, McKay allowed himself to smile. At least one thing was going well. He wrote a quick and dirty monitoring program to alert him to any changes in the sector they'd just repaired before he shut down the various workstations he'd used, leaving the one up and running.

Leaving the empty lab, he moved into his office, closing the door behind. He'd had the chance to fix it this morning just before everything had come falling down around their ears. Sitting at his desk, he wrote a quick email to Weir, letting her know that the section was up and running once again and his final reports for the data burst were already prepped and ready to go.

He was a little surprised to hear his door slide open. Raising his head he froze as Kramer stepped in, the door closing and locking behind him.

Rodney was already moving, his stupidly programmed brain reacting to the situation and the knowledge that everyone else had left the labs. He shoved his chair back and moved to the side of his desk, kneeling down. "What do you want?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Kramer made a pleased noise, and moved to sit in front of him in one of the guest chairs. "I see you are beginning to learn, although you still have not gained control over your mouth. It is too bad that Doctor Beckett managed to fix it, but I am willing to overlook that small detail for the moment. Although, come to think of it, I have the information I need to recreate it if I wish." He reached over and actually had the nerve to pet Rodney's head like he was a dog.

McKay ignored the threat for now, trying not to think about life without his voice. "You wanted something?"

"I merely wanted to see how my favorite pet is doing. You were quite busy today I hear."

"I'm fine and yes, I was busy."

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Not well."

"Now that is a shame. I'd imagine you would like to get some rest tonight then, wouldn't you?"

Gritting his teeth, Rodney tried to reign in his temper. "Yes, I would if you'd let me."

Kramer made another pleased noise. "Most excellent. However, sleep is a reward. What are you willing to do to deserve such a reward?"

This time Rodney closed his eyes briefly before responding. "What do you want me to do?"

"Right now I wish to hear what you would be willing to do. I have my own ideas of course, but you are a creative man. I'm curious as to what you will come up with."

"I don't know. You already have a list. What more to you want?"

Kramer shook his head with a sigh. "We take two steps forward, and then go back a pace. But progress is progress, correct? I spoke with Doctor Beckett today, did you know that?"

"You did? About what?" Rodney felt his eyes widen.

"He was highly complimentary of you actually. Surprising, really, considering the rumors have you blaming him for your current situation. The rumors also say he was ordered to see Doctor Heightmeyer in order to continue working. I was a bit surprised at his loyalty after all that."

"I…I don't know anything about that." Carson ordered to talk to Kate? Was that what Sheppard had been talking about?

Kramer was watching him carefully. "As I understand it, he was limited to ten-hour work days and ordered to take sleeping pills, or he would be removed from active duty. I must admit, I didn't think you would drive someone you considered a friend to such a state. It's even more surprising that with such callus treatment he continues to speak highly of you. You aren't a very good friend, are you, Rodney?"

"I never said I was," he mumbled.

"And yet, the ones who call you friend claim that is all an act, and bestow virtues such as loyalty, courage, and compassion upon you. Personally, I don't see it. If you weren't so intelligent, you would be a waste of perfectly good air."

"Are you done?" Rodney finally asked, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowed at Kramer.

Ignoring him, the scientist continued to muse. "In fact, I don't really think you deserve the kind of friendship you have. You don't appreciate it at all. What would you do if I ordered you to alienate everyone you care for in Atlantis?"

"I'd have to obey, wouldn't I? I don’t have much choice in the matter."

With an exaggerated sigh, Kramer shook his head. "Unfortunately, that would tip my hand, I believe, as delicious as it would be. Their loyalty to you is too strong at the moment, and they are more than willing to make excuses for your current behavior. Perhaps instead I should order you to sabotage some of the equipment in the medical labs. I have confidence you could do so without being discovered, and the knowledge that you had injured one of the people who not only defend you, but is also the only one who can free you from your current situation, would be rather painful, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," he replied through gritted teeth. "It's me that you have an issue with, why bring other people into it?"

The look he received in return was calculating. "I've already told you I intend to break your spirit. You are stubborn, and seem determined to defy me, even when it costs you in personal discomfort and pain. However, given what I've been told about you, perhaps you need an outside incentive. Such as Beckett's continued good health."

"What do you have against me? What did I ever do to you?"

Kramer sneered at him. "You are an arrogant, petty, small-minded man. You mocked and belittled me when I arrived. Not only that, you are part of the conspiracy to hoard technology for yourselves. Admittedly, I had only planned to gather information. That I got a new toy is just a delightful bonus of being in the right place at the right time."

"Please leave Beckett out of this. He doesn't deserve what you're planning. Do what you want with me, but leave him out of it."

"Ah, so we've touched on a sensitive nerve, have we? Excellent. However, I'm a magnanimous individual, so I'm willing to give Doctor Beckett a temporary reprieve this evening. If you grovel, and beg me to spare him."

Grinding his teeth, Rodney looked Kramer in the eyes. "Please. I'll do anything you ask, but don't make me do anything that could injure him. He's a good man. Please, leave him out of this, out of your plans. I'll do whatever else you want. Please."

The smile he was quickly learning to hate curved the man's lips. "Wonderful. I knew you could do it with the proper incentive. For tonight, the good doctor will remain safe. However, next time you consider mouthing off, remember that I can change my mind." He rose to his feet, petting Rodney on the head again. "You have been a good little slave tonight. Get some dinner and go on back to your room to sleep."

Holding back his anger, he bowed his head—mostly so Kramer couldn't see the rage in his eyes. "Thank you."

With a humorless chuckle, the man unlocked the door and left.

The door closed and Rodney slumped, leaning a shoulder against his desk, feeling his body shake from the suppressed anger and fear. What else would he have to fight against? Who else would he have to beg to save? When would this be over?

Sometime later, he finally got his feet under him and he stumbled back to his chair, finishing up the email he'd started before.

After shutting down his laptop, he headed to the mess. He stopped at the door as soon as his eyes fell on Carson and Sheppard sitting at the far end of the room. The last thing he needed was for them to notice him. But knowing his luck, things wouldn't work out the way he wanted.

Sighing, he headed over to the line to get food, grabbing a tray and praying that he could somehow become invisible.

***

 

Carson picked at his food. The session with Kate had been another intense one, and the only reason he was here was because he had promised to meet Sheppard. Before arriving, he had needed to find a secluded corner to gather himself a bit, and now he was pretty sure he was doing a decent job of hiding his emotional distress.

He was hoping for a quick, quiet dinner, then escape to his room, when Sheppard stood up suddenly and called over to the line of people getting their food. “McKay! Hey, heard you had a busy day. Why don't you come join us when you get your food?”

Beckett sent a small glare John’s way, then made sure his calm mask was firmly in place as Rodney came over to sit with them. He was a bit shocked at how bad his friend looked, but he was, honestly, afraid to say anything yet. “Um, hello Rodney."

"Carson, Sheppard," he said, settling slowly into his chair, his eyes never quite leaving his tray of food—and for Rodney there was almost nothing on the plate.

Sheppard looked over both of them carefully, then suddenly grabbed his tray and stood up again. "Hey, I just remembered I had something I needed to take care of. I'll see you both later."

Before Carson could say anything, he was out the door. “Bloody bastard,” he muttered.

Rodney's watched the colonel as he left the mess, something in his eyes that Carson couldn't read. The scientist finally turned back to his food, pushing it around on his plate for a moment before he started to eat.

Hating the silence, Carson picked at his own food. "How have you been?"

Rodney shrugged. "Fine. Busy. You?"

"About the same actually." He watched Rodney out of the corner of his eye.

"Good," the scientist said, eyes fixed on his food.

With a quiet snort, Carson took a bite, despite not feeling hungry. "Aye, we're both falling apart, but everything's fine." Then his eyes widened as he realized he had said it out loud. Shit, talking to Kate was starting to mess with his head.

Rodney glanced up, eyes narrowing a little as he finally looked at Beckett. "So that rumor's true, eh?"

Swallowing hard, Carson looked back down at his plate. "It's nothing. I'm sorry."

"Hey, at least you went."

"I was'na given a choice. I go, or I'm removed from active duty." He looked up, as what Rodney had said sunk in. "They told you the same thing?"

"More or less," he said, shrugging, his food more interesting than it was a few seconds ago.

Sighing, Carson looked over his friend again. "You look like hell, if you don't mind me saying so," he said quietly. "I know right now I'm not high on the list of people you would choose to talk to, but you do know I'm always here if you need me, right?"

"I'm fine," he said immediately, a forkful of food making its way into his mouth.

"Aye, of course," Carson nodded, looking down at his own food again. He pushed it around a bit more on his plate. He thanked his lucky stars that Sheppard had left early in the dinner. If it got back to Elizabeth and Kate that he wasn't eating, he didn't think they would react very well.

A fork dropped against a tray and Carson's head snapped up. Most of the food was still on Rodney's plate, but it looked like he was moving to leave.

"Rodney. Wait. Please, um, look, I'm sorry, okay. Don't leave."

He paused, uncertainty on his face. "I'm really not good company right now," he said, sitting back down immediately.

"Neither am I, quite frankly. But maybe we could be unfit company together? At least for dinner?"

"If you want," he sighed, looking down. "But right now, until you tell me I can leave I have to stay put."

Carson started, having forgotten that. "I...I'm sorry. Of course. I did'na mean..."

Rodney waved his hand. "It's fine. You didn't mean anything by it I know. I’m just pointing it out."

Carson realized they were on dangerous territory again. Right now, it was just too close to the surface for either of them to be comfortable talking about it. At least Rodney was speaking to him again. That was something. He decided for a tactical change of subject. "So, um, any new and exciting discoveries in the lab lately?"

"A few things look promising," he replied, eyes on his water bottle, his fingers picking at the label. "Most of the scientists are morons."

"Aye, so you've said in the past. I wandered through the labs earlier today, and everyone looked busy."

Rodney glanced up quickly, an odd look in his eyes, before his gaze skittered away again. "I'd heard you were there."

Carson had noted the strange reaction, and decided to tread slowly. The last thing he needed was to upset Rodney again. "I wasn't allowed to go to work yet, so I was out getting some air. One of the new fellows stopped me."

"I hope he didn't say anything out of turn. Some of them don't know their way around yet."

"Well, to be honest I was a bit surprised at his interest in you. He was fishing for medical information, which seemed odd, but he said he was working closely with you on a project."

Rodney's entire body stilled for a moment, before nodding slightly. "If it's who I think it is, then yes, we are." He paused for a long beat before he continued. "What did he want to know?"

"Kramer, I think it was. He was asking about the current situation, and wanted to know when we would have a trial ready to reverse the changes. I told him that was confidential and he would have to talk with you, as I won't release patient information like that unless it's an emergency."

Rodney nodded slowly. "Thanks. I'll…take it up with him in the morning."

"Good. Honestly, he seemed a little too focused on himself. He was really more worried about how he felt he was being treated than any real concern for you. As I said, it seemed a bit odd."

"Don't worry about it. I'll talk with him. Forget about it."

"All right." Carson offered a shy smile.

"Carson," Rodney finally said, glancing up, "could you do me a favor?"

"Of course. You know you only have to ask."

"If anything like that happens again, can you tell Sheppard?"

Carson blinked. "O...kay. Just him specifically, or any of your scientists? Because Radek badgers me almost daily wanting to know my progress. I didn't mention it because I know in his case, it's because he's worried about you."

"Anyone else except Radek and Miko. Elizabeth's getting more…concerned about some security issues and I think that would fall under her heading. Can you do that for me?"

"Aye, I can do that." He eyed Rodney, and noted his expression was a bit more intense than this warranted. "Do you mind me asking why though? Not that it makes a difference, and you don't have to tell me, but I am worried about you."

"I doubt it'll happen," Rodney said, his eyes back on his plate. "This is just in case it does. Okay?"

"Aye, of course." He watched as Rodney picked at his food. "You really should eat you know. I heard about the problems today, and I know you well enough to know you probably didn't get a decent lunch. They have me on bloody sleeping pills, so if you have a hypoglycemic reaction, you'll have to deal with Doctor Biro, and I know you don't much care for her."

"I ate enough," he growled. "I know how to regulate my sugar levels."

"I didn't say you didn't eat enough. I said it was probably a PowerBar." He sighed. "Sorry, I can'na help it."

McKay glanced up briefly, apology on his face. "Neither can I, apparently."

Carson laughed quietly. "Aye, we really are a pair, aren't we?"

"I guess you can call it that." McKay sighed again. "I know you're trying here, but unless there was something you wanted to talk about, I'd really like to go back to my quarters and go to bed. It's been a long day."

Carson nodded. "Aye, of course. I just...I did'na want you to leave angry again. I'm headed to bed myself." He dropped the fork onto his tray.

As Carson rose, Rodney glanced up at him, his eyes wide, a slight flush on his cheeks. "You…ah…have to tell me I can leave."

His eyes widened. "I do? Of course. You can leave any time you want. Bloody hell."

"It's fine," Rodney said, rising slowly. "I just don't feel like sitting here all night because you told me before not to leave."

Carson closed his eyes, the guilt momentarily getting the better of him, before he forced it back down. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just...I'm sorry for everything."

"Just stop it. What's done is done," he said, moving slowly, carefully. "Have a good night."

Frowning, he noticed how awkwardly Rodney was moving, and the doctor in him repressed everything else for a moment. "Wait a minute, and no, that's not an order. I just…why are you moving so oddly? Is something wrong with your back?"

Rodney turned, something passing over his face for a moment before it was gone. "I've been running through the bowels of Atlantis, crawling and bending and trying to contort myself so I can fit into places not made for normal humans. You do that for twelve hours and then tell me you're not sore."

Carson shook his head slowly. "I've seen you after sessions like that, and this is different. You aren't moving like its muscle soreness."

"I'm fine. Just leave it, please."

Carson carefully weighed his next words. "Rodney...why are you trying to hide an injury? That's not like you at all, and I can tell there's something wrong. I hope it's not because you don't trust me to help you anymore."

Rodney moved into the hallway, Carson following a few steps behind. He finally stopped just before the transporter. "If I needed help I would have asked for it. And if there is anything wrong with me—and I'm not saying that there is— but if there is, how do you know that it wasn't something I'd asked for?"

"Because while you ask for help on minor problems, you have a bad habit of trying to hide major ones for some reason. And I know you well enough to know you wouldn't ask for something that would cause you pain. While you're trying to hide it, now that I'm looking, I can tell you're in a considerable amount of pain. Most people might miss it, but I'm your doctor, I know how you move and how you hold your body. Rodney, please let me at least look at it."

"Look," Rodney took a few steps closer, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "If you want I can go into some very personal and intimate details but I don't think you would be interested in hearing about the kinds of things that I enjoy…" He let the last word sit before he stepped back, an eyebrow raised.

Raising an eyebrow, Carson shook his head again. Something was wrong here, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "I've heard you say on more than one occasion that pleasure and pain don't mix, when applied to almost any activity. Now you're asking me to believe that all the sudden you've developed a kink out of no where for pain? Not likely. And even if I did believe you, I'd still want to take a look at the injury to be sure it was properly treated."

"Carson, I'm going to insist," Rodney said, standing straight, his chin rising to one of its more stubborn positions. "I do not require medical attention and I do not want you prying into my life."

He watched Rodney for a moment, and finally sighed. Since coming to Atlantis, he had taken to carrying a variety of small, common medical cures in his pockets, since he always seemed to need them when he wasn't near the infirmary. Reaching in, he was relieved to find one of the items currently on his person was a sample-size of antibiotic cream. He held it out. "At least take this. If you do have open cuts, you don't want them getting infected."

"I'm fine."

"Humor me then. You can always trash it later and lie to me." Carson was suddenly very tired.

"Fine." Grabbing the tube, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Anything else?"

"Rodney...." He finally slumped in defeat. He wanted to push it. He wanted to order him down to the infirmary for a full exam. He wanted his friend to trust him. For now, he would just have to be content with keeping an eye on him though. And maybe warning John. Rodney's earlier request to report anything odd to the colonel now struck him as a bit odd. "Nae, nothing. Have a nice night I suppose."

"I will," Rodney commented with a leer on his face as he stepped into the transporter alcove. He doors closed a moment later, leaving Carson in the hall.

With a deep breath, Carson hit the transporter himself, and chose the location near Sheppard's quarters. He hoped the man had headed back there after dinner. Coming to his door, he knocked lightly.

It took a minute before Sheppard answered the door, still dressed in his BDUs, but missing his uniform jacket. The laptop was on the bed, the pillows and blankets askew. "Beckett? Everything okay?" He paused, his eyes going wide. "Wait, are you here to yell at me about leaving you in the mess with McKay? It was for the best. You both needed to talk. I thought—"

"No, I'm not here to berate you, although it is about Rodney. We chatted for a while, and something is'na right. But I don't know if it's just me, so I was wondering if I could run a few things by you, if you don't mind. I didn't want to disturb anything."

"Come in. I'm just watching the part of the movie I missed last night," Sheppard said, moving into his quarters, pulling the desk chair out for Carson before he settled on his bed. "So, you talked to Rodney?"

"Aye," he said slowly. "And there were a few things that stood out as odd. One of his scientists approached me this morning and was trying to get information on his current condition. Rodney asked me to report it to you if anyone else did the same. And when we were leaving, I noticed that he was moving as if he was in pain, but at first he denied it, then he claimed it was a new sexual kink. It didn't ring true at all."

"Rodney?" Sheppard sputtered, his eyes wide.

"That was my reaction."

"Who is it?"

"He did'na say. I saw an odd look cross his face when I started to question him, but it was gone so fast I'm not entirely sure what it was. I was hesitant to push it, since while we're talking again, I don't get the feeling he's entirely comfortable around me. Now whether it was me specifically or that he's trying to hide something in general, I don't know."

"Cause, strangely enough…" Sheppard shook his head. "I'll keep an eye on him. I'll also ask Ronon and Teyla to swing by a little more often as well. But what about the other thing he asked you about?"

Carson raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I want to know why you are thinking about Rodney playing the submissive in bed. Personally, I don't see him volunteering for pain, especially since once I started looking, I could see that he was probably in near agony and hiding it. As for the other, it was one of the new scientists, Doctor Kramer, who was questioning me."

"Trust me. McKay's one kinky bastard. You wouldn't believe what he's said about the Wraith queens." Carson's eyes widened at the comment, but Sheppard continued. "Kramer? He's part of the new batch. Mostly looks like he's still finding his feet."

"There's a difference between kinks and looking for pain," Carson shook his head. "But anyway, I'd agree with you about Kramer, and at the time I didn't think much of it beyond thinking it was strange the man was fishing for specific medical information, and seemed to want it because he was concerned about his own hide and not because he was worried about Rodney. It wasn't until dinner when Rodney specifically asked me to report any further occurrences of that from anyone except Miko and Radek that I started to get suspicious. He's never asked you to step in on matters like that before, has he?"

"Actually, Elizabeth's starting to crack down on security here in Atlantis. We've had some misplaced files, some other…classified documents end up in public folders. We need to keep some tighter controls over the information we have."

Pulling his eyebrows together in confusion, he tried to figure out the connection. "But what does that have to do with Rodney and him being worried about his people asking me for his medical information. He was very…intense…when he asked me to report to you."

Sheppard eyebrow rose. "This directive covers everything classified and confidential. If someone is trying to access information that they are not authorized to have, we need to know. I thought Elizabeth would have gone over this with you already."

He shook his head. "Nae, although to be honest, I haven't seen her since the other day after the meeting." He slumped in the chair. "I don't know, I suppose that does make sense, but I can't shake the feeling that it's more than that."

"Look, Kramer's question was probably innocent. He's new, trying to get his bearings, get his feet under him. Rodney was right to ask you to report him if it happened again. And that's what he asked, correct?"

"Yes," Carson dragged the word out, wishing he could make Sheppard understand why he was concerned. "And on its own, it wouldn't have struck me. It's just... it's a few things, all at the same time. I can't explain it. Just do me a favor and keep a close eye on him, okay?"

"Already doing so—Teyla, Ronon, and I have a rotating schedule when we're on base. Have to make sure our resident genius is kept out of trouble…at least the trouble he wants to be kept out of." He groaned. "You know, that's one subject I never thought we'd be sitting here talking about."

Carson shook his head again. "I still think you're wrong. That was the excuse he gave, and I can't prove it, but I'm sure he was lying to hide something. But I don't know what, and that's what worries me."

"Let's wait and see. There's not much more we can do at this point unless you want me to break into his quarters to see who might be there with him. But without anything to go on besides a feeling…" Sheppard shrugged.

"All right, I understand that. I just wanted to talk to you and let you know my suspicions. It is altogether possible I'm jumping at shadows, but I just can't shake the feeling that something was wrong."

Sheppard was silent for a minute, his hands clasped together. "Do you want me to do something tonight?"

Carson shook his head. "Nae, I don't know that there's anything you can do. I just want someone else to be on the alert."

"Consider me alerted, and I'll let the others know too." He paused again. "So, was it that horrible talking to him?"

"It was a bit awkward at times, but not horrible, no."

The corner of John's mouth rose slightly. "So, I'm not in the dog house, right?"

Carson let out a tired chuckle. "No, lad, you're not in the doghouse. I wouldn't suggest doing that again, since it is'na wise to tempt a doctor on the edge, but then, you seem to have an incessant reckless streak at times."

"Me?" Sheppard's eyes widened, an exaggerated innocent expression on his face. "Want to watch the end of 'Star Wars: A New Hope'? I don't think we have the time to watch the whole thing."

"Why not? I was just going to head to bed after this anyway." Smiling, he scooted the chair around and propped his feet on the end of the bed. "And thanks."

Sheppard offered a lazy smile as he rearranged himself and the laptop so they both could see the screen. "Not a problem, doc. Not a problem at all."

***

It had taken Rodney a while to wind down after his conversation with Carson, but once he did, he managed to fall into a deep and restful sleep, waking up the next morning feeling refreshed and alert.

Most of the day went well. Radek took care of the compression and the data burst for Elizabeth since he was still elbow-deep in the repairs they'd started the day before. He'd even taken the time to grab lunch—a quick one—but it was better than what he'd been getting the past week or so. Dinner was a similarly quick affair in the mess, tucked into a corner, before he headed back to his lab. He wanted to finish going over Miko's latest report. It was her third pass at it and his initial glance before dinner had looked promising.

Scrolling through some of his email messages on his PDA, he was surprised when Sheppard dropped into the seat across from him, clearly wanting to talk since there was no food anywhere near the soldier.

"Hey, busy?"

Rodney held up his PDA. "Working."

"Mind taking a break for a minute?"

McKay shrugged, putting the PDA down just to the side of his tray. "Depends. I thought you were going out on a mission."

"It's been postponed. Some security issues." Sheppard leaned forward a bit, elbows on the table. "Beckett came to see me last night after he talked to you."

Rodney felt his face pale a little and he glanced down. "Did he?"

"He said you told him to report anyone asking about your health to me. It seemed pretty concerned about your back too."

He rolled his eyes. "And I told him I was fine. I wish he'd just forget about that. I didn't need him broadcasting my personal and private business. And yes, I did ask him to talk to you but only if the incident in question happened again. Which, if I remember Elizabeth's note correctly, was part of the procedure."

Sheppard nodded. "That's pretty much what I told him, but he was pretty agitated. Honestly, if there hadn't been an issue with the data burst today, on top of the glitches lately, I'd probably have just laughed it off."

"What issue? Radek didn't mention anything."

Sheppard hesitated briefly. "There was a packet of additional data hidden in the burst. It had some pretty highly classified information, and we wouldn't have caught it at all if we weren't already on alert. Radek stripped it out before we sent the burst, and he just finished going through it all. Rodney, one of the folders was Beckett's complete file on what happened to you, how it changed you, and his notes on how they were trying to reverse it."

"What!"

"Which makes Beckett's concerns—which I trivialized last night—a bit more credible. Whoever did it was good enough that everything Radek's done to try and trace it to a source has come up blank or led back to your old password. Seeing as how none of us believe you're the one responsible, we're pretty sure someone managed to get hold of your information. I need to know if you can think of anyone who might have gotten access to it—or any situations where they could have gotten it somehow. That will narrow it down some if you can."

Rodney shook his head, panic mixed with relief. They knew something was wrong. They were working on it, but he couldn't tell them anything. "I honestly don't know. It could be anyone. The passwords haven't been changed in several months."

Sheppard sighed, sitting back. "Damn it. I was hoping you might have some ideas, since almost anyone on the science staff could probably have pulled that off, and for all we know there could be others involved as well. We know there must be someone in the SGC at least, to receive the data, and Landry's working on tracking it from their end."

"Colonel, it could be anyone," McKay said, glancing down at his PDA and the unopened messages in his email box—including his new password. "Some of the military personnel aren't exactly slouches when it comes to cracking codes."

"I agree. I tend to think it's probably a scientist, since while some of the soldiers could probably have done something like this, I honestly don't think they could have hidden their trail this completely. But I'm not ruling anyone out yet, either."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "How many of your staff were in special ops, Sheppard? Come on. Think about it. Some of them might even be better than the morons I have working for me."

"Like I said, I'm not ruling it out. We obviously have someone on base smart enough to hide their tracks, so there's really no telling how they might have chosen to conceal themselves. I'm not even ruling out the medical personnel right now." Sheppard paused again, seeming to make a decision. "Rodney, given the current situation, I have to ask you a question. In a second I'm going to have to order you to answer yes or no, and I'm only asking because right now you're vulnerable, otherwise I never would have considered it."

"Sheppard, come on," Rodney said, knowing immediately what he was going to ask and that he was going to have to lie to his friend because he had no other choice. Kramer's standing orders could not be overridden.

"I'm sorry. I really don't want to, but some of that information was incredibly classified, and if we don't track down the source quickly, there's going to be a lot of trouble." He took a deep breath, and spoke slowly, his tone holding a hint of command in it. "Rodney, you will answer the following question: have you in any way, shape, or form been compromised due to your current inability to deny direct orders given by an expedition member with the ATA gene?"

Rodney wanted to answer truthfully, but Kramer's words, his orders, were already burned into his mind. He had no choice. He held Sheppard's gaze. "No."

"All right. I'm sorry. I had to ask."

Rodney glanced down at his PDA, his tone tight. "Was that all?"

Sheppard didn't say anything for a moment. When he finally replied, he sounded weary. "No, I know you have a lot to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, let me know, okay? Honestly, I'd rather it was you working on tracking this down, but Elizabeth is worried that if you aren't already a target, that might be too tempting for someone to resist right now."

"It's been what, weeks since that incident?"

"Yeah, about that, why?"

"I'm just pointing it out. It's been weeks since anything happened."

"Yeah, but you also weren't involved in foiling a fairly complex plot to steal classified data either. I agree that one was probably just a mean prank by someone you insulted, but whomever is involved in this security breach probably isn't going to be interested in simply humiliating you if they think you're in the way."

"I have no intention of getting in the middle of anything."

"Good. That's one less thing for me to worry about then." Sheppard stood up, clasping a hand briefly on Rodney's shoulder. "I'll update you as we have more information."

"Good, good," he said, watching as Sheppard made his way across the mess, stopping to talk with a few people on his way out.

Glancing back down at his PDA, he quickly made up his mind and rose to his feet, depositing the remains of his dinner in the appropriate receptacles before heading to the science lab. He wanted to update a few of his personal passwords and put additional locks on a few projects. Kramer hadn't told him _not_ to do that and it would give a little bit more security to the data.

He worked quickly once he got back to his office, backing up several highly classified files to his laptop and triple encoding them. There was no way he was going to let that information get into the hands of the Trust—at least not easily.

When his office door slid open nearly two hours later, he was calmly working on a research project, all his previous changes long since completed. Glancing up, he held back a groan as the door slid closed and locked. He was already moving, placing himself exactly where Kramer wanted him—on his knees.

"You have been a very, very bad boy." The words were almost spit at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Shut up. Do not speak. I don't know how you managed it, but they not only discovered the additional data, they are now aware that there is an operative here. And when I attempted to get into the system, I discovered that all the passwords have been changed. You are far more resourceful that I gave you credit for." Kramer had paced around behind him, and Rodney fell forward from a sudden blow to the head—it wasn't hard enough to cause damage, but it had been unexpected. "When I leave here, you are going to get up and go out to the East Pier. I will meet you there using a little toy we managed to get out of the SGC several years ago."

Rodney glanced at Kramer, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Apparently you need a much more objective lesson. You will not cross me again." His tone was clipped, furious. "You have fifteen minutes." Without another word, he whirled and left the office.

Rodney got to his feet, his body shaking. Turning back to his laptop, he saved the project he was working on, shutting down the machine before he headed out the door.

A quick transport and a brisk seven minute walk and he stepped out onto the East Pier, the wind blowing strongly from the North. He pulled his uniform jacket a little closer to his body in an effort to keep warm as he waited. Kramer hadn't been specific on where to meet and Rodney hoped this was good enough.

After a moment, a burly Marine walked up. He was carrying a short, thick rod like he had seen the American police use on resistant suspects on late-night cop shows. "Step behind those crates."

Rodney would recognize that voice anywhere—Kramer. He moved instinctively, his mind whirling. How the…what kind of device was he using?

Kramer followed him, shadows hiding his expression. He reached up and grabbed at something invisible on his chest, pulling away a small device, his familiar form rippling back into view. "I've done some research. Here behind these crates, not a single security camera can see what's going on. Strip down to your boxer shorts and kneel."

Obeying with shaking hands—either from the cold or his nerves, he wasn't sure, and honestly, it didn't matter at this point. He stripped down. His uniform jacket, shirt, pants, socks, and boots ended up in a pile on the floor, his radio dropped on top.

Kneeling on the cold metal, he shivered, waiting as Kramer paced around him. The man had placed a small backpack on the floor leaning against the side of one of the larger crates. Anything could be in there and Rodney didn't even want to imagine what that 'anything' could be.

"Now, you may speak only if it is to beg me to stop, or tell me how very sorry you are. You may scream if you wish, as there is no one out here to hear you. Otherwise, you do not speak."

"For whatever you think I did, I’m sorry, but I didn't do anything," Rodney managed to get out, before Kramer stopped in front of him, grabbing his chin roughly.

"You think you are so clever. I've no doubt you managed to find a loophole somewhere. You will regret defying me dearly." Letting him go, he paced over to the backpack, setting down the club and pulling out a small device that looked Goa'uld. "I think we'll start with this. Lord Ba'al brought it with him when he arrived on Earth to assume command of the Trust." Pushing it against Rodney's bare chest, he felt the sharp stab as it attached itself to his skin.

"Please, don't do this," Rodney said, glancing up at Kramer, his eyes wide. His hand moved to feel how it was connected, but Kramer stopped him even before he got close.

"Do not touch it." He took out what was probably a remote from the pack. "The idiots at the SGC believe they have seen everything, but Ba'al was a master of torture as a System Lord. He has many secrets they would weep to discover."

Rodney's hand dropped to his side. "Please, don't do this."

"You should have thought of that when I was feeling generous. No longer, slave." He pushed a button, and it felt like the device had turned white hot against his skin. Kramer continued to talk as the pain seared through him. "You will continue to focus on what I am saying, even as your body screams for the release of unconsciousness. You will remain aware until I say otherwise."

He screamed against the pain until his breath caught in his throat, his body forcing itself to stay awake and alert even though blackness crept at the edge of awareness. He heard himself sobbing, begging for Kramer to stop, but the man ignored him, talking and explaining as he continued the torture.

"This device is rather unique. It will leave no mark on your skin when I remove it. This is merely the warm-up. I will mark you soon enough." He hit another button, and the white-hot heat turned suddenly to ice cold, pulsing against the same spot.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, please stop. Stop, please," he begged.

"Not a chance. You need a more persuasive lesson than I have given you previously." He amused himself switching back and forth between the hot and cold at random intervals.

It was almost as if Kramer was trying to milk every scream and yelp out of him. When he was done, Rodney was bent over, his hands braced on the ground, his arms barely able to keep him upright.

"I think we've exhausted the current possibilities of this device. Sit back up on your knees."

Rodney struggled to obey, finally managing to get in the position Kramer demanded, sitting heavily on his heels, his weight pressing his feet even more firmly into the cold hard ground.

Kramer reached over, yanking the device off, and although when he looked down there were only a few faint marks where it had been attached, it felt like it was ripping away skin.

McKay's right hand drifted to rub the spot, the touch confirming that he was still in one piece. Sucking in deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart, he watched as Kramer moved back to his bag, digging around inside.

"Please stop. You don’t have to do this."

"You don't seem to understand your situation. I tried to be kind, but you are determined to disobey." He pulled out a small knife, unsheathing it. "You have a fear of knives, don't you? I read the reports from the first year. Give me the arm Kolya used."

With wide eyes, Rodney lifted his right arm, watching as it shook slightly. Once it was close enough to Kramer, he grabbed his wrist, tugging it to where he wanted it, the knife gleaming bright against his skin.

"Please, stop. Please."

The blade pressed against the faint scar, although it didn't draw blood—yet. "You have begged to stop, but you have yet to give me a reason." The words were practically spit in his face. "You have been very disobedient, why should you not be punished?"

"Please, I didn't do anything."

A light slash against his arm drew a faint line of blood. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Oh, God, please stop. Please tell me what I did wrong. I don’t know what to apologize for. I didn't do anything."

As Kramer spoke, he punctuated each offense with another light cut across his arm. "You found a way to tip them off to the information in the data burst. You had the passwords changed. You have found a way to increase the security protocols to make it difficult for me to gather additional data."

"I didn't do anything, I swear. I had nothing to do with any of it."

"I don't believe you." This time the cut was much deeper.

He choked off a scream. "Please, I didn't do it. Radek changed the passwords as per Elizabeth's order. And he increased the security as per her order. He also handled the data burst. I had nothing to do with any of it. Please, stop. Please." A sob escaped as the knife dug in a little deeper.

"Ah, so it was Zelenka whom I need to deal with. Excellent. Very good, my little slave, for telling me who is causing me problems."

"Please, leave him out of this. He's just doing his job."

"He is irritating me, along with Major Lorne and Doctor Beckett. They seem determined to thwart me, and we can't have that, now can we? In fact, I think they might need a warning as to what happens when they interfere, don't you?" He pushed the knife deep again, until he hit bone, then pulled it away and stood once more.

Rodney clutched his arm to his chest, the blood dripping through his fingers, pooling around his knee. "Please, you have me. Leave them alone," he said, whimpering. "I've kept them all away from you. Let you do what you want. Isn't that enough?"

"Of course not. If it was enough, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He put the knife away and picked up the club he had originally been carrying. "When they eventually find you here, you may tell them exactly what was done to you physically. You will not tell them who did it. You will only say that it was a warning not to interfere. You will not mention anything else that you know about me or our relationship, is that clear?" As he spoke, he began to rain blows down on Rodney's body, their strength just shy of bone-breaking.

"Yes, oh God," he moaned. Throughout the beating he screamed and yelled and moaned, whimpering when Kramer hit sensitive spots. Time became meaningless as he sobbed, trying to push past the pain. He knew he begged and pleaded for him to stop, but Kramer didn't listen, continuing until Rodney was slumped over on the floor, barely able to stay upright and conscious.

Studying him for a moment, Kramer finally nodded. He repacked all his implements carefully, and then re-attached the device that cast the illusion of the marine. "I hope you have learned something from this, Rodney. When I leave, you may do as you wish—pass out or attempt to get medical attention. Have a pleasant evening."

A moment later and Kramer was gone, vanishing into the darkness beyond the crates, going back to the warmth of Atlantis. Sliding to the ground, Rodney pulled his arm close to his body. He rocked slightly against the pain, trying to hold on long enough o get help. Oh, God, he needed help.

It took time—how much, he didn't know—before he was able to reach his radio. His badly shaking left hand finally managed to attach it to his ear. He had no idea what time it was, but he didn't care.

"McKay to Beckett," he said, finally clicking the radio on, the words barely loud enough to carry.

There was no response for a few minutes, then a slurred voice answered. "Rod'ey?"

"Carson?" He hissed in pain, rolling slightly on the cold ground outside.

"What time is it? What's going on? Where are you?" Carson's voice was still a bit slurred, but seemed to be getting clearer.

It took a moment for him to answer, the words filled with pain. "East Pier. Hurry. Please."

There was a heartbeat of silence before Carson replied, all traces of sleep now gone. "On my way. Rodney, keep talking to me. What happened? Why are you at the Pier? Do I need to bring my med kit?"

"Hurry, please," he finally said, blackness that wasn't the night sky beginning to close in. "Hurts."

"Rodney? Rodney! Stay with me, lad, I'm coming."

He rolled again, whimpering in pain, pulling his freezing limbs closer to his body as he shivered. "Hurry…" he finally whispered, Carson's pleas for him to stay awake the only thing keeping him from succumbing to the darkness and the welcome pain-free existence of unconsciousness.

"I'm hurrying. I'm at the transporter now, so I'll be out to you in five minutes. Can you tell me what's hurting?"

"Everything," he whispered, realizing that it was taking more and more effort to reply.

"What happened? Are you out there making repairs to something? How did you get injured?"

"Warning," he replied, coughing a little, the pain screaming through his body. He knew he whimpered into the link, but he didn't care.

"Warning? What do you mean? Rodney, stay with me a little longer, I'm nearly to the Pier. Where are you exactly?"

"Outside. Crates. Hurry, please."

Rodney heard a sound, and then Carson was there. "Oh my God." The doctor reached up to tap his radio even as he dropped to his knees beside Rodney. "Beckett to Infirmary. I need an emergency team with a gurney down to the East Pier ASAP."

Rodney looked up, catching his friend's eyes. "It hurts. Make it stop. Please."

"I know, I promise, I'm here now and I'll make it better." Carson had brought the small field kit Rodney knew he kept in his room. He pulled a syringe out of it, taking the uninjured arm and injecting it, before pulling out sterile pads and gauze. "This will help with the pain. I need to see your arm. Right now, that's the injury I can do the most about until we get you to the infirmary."

Rodney uncurled a little, moaning as Carson moved to help him, grabbing his wrist almost exactly where Kramer had, making him flinch. He could feel some of the drug already working, but it wasn't enough.

Carson kept talking to him, his voice low and soothing as he worked. "It's okay, I know it hurts. Honestly, I'm surprised you're even still conscious. If you can tell me more of what happened to you, we can start putting you back together faster once the rest of my team gets here."

"You…asked me to…" Rodney whispered, wanted to curl back up, his body shivering—from the cold and the injuries.

"I asked you to what?"

It took a long moment for him to answer, his responses getting slower with each and every question. "To…stay…with you."

Carson's hands paused before continuing their work. "Bloody. Everlasting. Hell. Rodney, if you need to pass out, do it. Your body knows what it can and can'na take. Let it do what it needs to."

Rodney glanced at his friend, a brief smile on his lips before he felt his body slump, darkness falling over him, welcoming it into its warm embrace.

***

Carson watched the rise and fall of his friend’s chest, in time to the beeps of all the monitors Rodney was hooked up to. They had rushed him in to the infirmary, appalled at how badly beaten he was. Beckett sank down into a nearby chair, knowing that any minute Elizabeth and Sheppard, as well as Ronon and Teyla, would arrive and demand explanations.

He wished he had something solid to give them.

As it was, he hadn’t had the time to alert them to the emergency until Rodney was out of immediate danger. He was expecting some very upset individuals when they got here.

"What the hell happened?" Sheppard's voice was quiet, the words hissed as he stood at the end of the bed, his silent approach startling Carson.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked up. "He was beaten and tortured out on the East Pier."

"How? Who?"

"I have a few educated guesses about the how, but I can'na tell you the who. I found him in his boxers on the Pier, bruises covering the bulk of his body, although thank God nothing was broken. His arm was cut to the bone, in the same place where Koyla tortured him last year. There are a few small strange marks on his chest I can't even begin to guess at. We only found them because Anne was cleaning some blood from his arm off his chest, from where he had been cradling it against himself."

"Damn fool! I told him not to get involved." Sheppard turned, walking a few paces away from the bed, his hand clenched in fists.

"Colonel, I'm afraid that's not all. I found evidence of what was probably an earlier beating on his back." He paused, staring at his injured friend for a moment. "He wasn't altogether coherent when I got there, but when I asked him why, he said it was a warning."

"A warning? Damn, I knew there was more than what he was telling me. What did he think he was doing?"

Letting his eyes unfocus a bit, Carson stared off past Sheppard. "I don't think he had much choice. Given the pattern of injuries, the way his clothes were piled up—not ripped or torn at all—the fact that he was awake until I gave him permission to pass out... I have a feeling he was ordered not to resist. And if that's the case, then odds are good he was told not to give us any information about who did this. Even when he wakes up, I don't know that we'll get much out of him."

"Or there could be more than one person involved. Holding someone at gunpoint tends to make people cooperative."

"Aye, there's that too. I can't rule anything out, all I can tell you is what I'm able to infer from what I saw. That was my first conclusion, but that does'na mean it's the right one."

"He could have also been responding to you. Orders given over the radio from known ATA carriers have the same effect as if they were done in person." Sheppard took a breath, walking back over to the bed, this time standing to the side looking down at Rodney. "He going to be okay?"

"That's true. When he first called me, I was still groggy from the damn sleeping pills. It took me a few minutes to catch on to what he was asking of me. Honestly, given his injuries I'm surprised he did'na pass out while he was being beaten, but Rodney does surprise me sometimes." Pushing himself out of the chair, he joined Sheppard by the bed. "He will be okay once these heal. Whomever did this did'na want to cause permanent damage. This was done to cause pain."

"Well, there's that," he said sourly, footsteps sounding in the infirmary.

Carson placed a hand on his arm. "We'll find the person or people who did this."

"You're damn right we will," Sheppard growled as Lorne and Ronon rounded the corner, stopping dead in their tracks as soon as their eyes hit the figure in the bed. Ronon growled deep and low, his eyes flashing with anger. Lorne's eyes widened, his gaze searching for answers between Sheppard and Carson.

"Sir? What happened? I just got the call now…"

"Rodney was beaten out on the East Pier. He stayed awake long enough to get to his radio and call me late last night." Carson wondered how many times he would be going over this today.

"Sir," Lorne replied, locking his eyes with Sheppard's, "I'll get on the security camera feeds immediately. We'll find whoever did this." A swish of fabric and Lorne was gone.

Carson glanced over at a furious Ronon. "Colonel, why don't you and Ronon head out to the Pier and see if we missed anything? You both need something to do, and honestly we were more focused on getting Rodney back here than looking for evidence. I found him behind the stack of crates out there."

"Right where there are no cameras," Sheppard said, sighing. "I've told Elizabeth we need to get more cameras up and she's been putting it off. Now, she's not going to have much choice." He paused, turning to Ronon. "Grab Teyla and go check out the area. Let me know what you find."

The Satedan nodded, whirling and stalking back out the door. Carson raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you're not going. You need something constructive to do."

"This is constructive enough," Sheppard said, settling down in one of the chairs Carson kept in the smaller rooms. Rodney shifted on the bed, a flicker of pain running across his face.

Giving the Colonel a hard look, Carson moved back to check on Rodney, adjusting the dosage of painkillers being administered by the IV. "And what exactly is it you think you're doing?"

"Right now, trying to decide what I'm going to yell at him about first." Sheppard sighed. "I warned him, told him to avoid trouble, told him that I thought there was some brewing. And I asked him outright if he knew anything."

"Colonel..." Carson shook his head. "I'm telling you, I don't think he could. If nothing else, the fact that he told me it was a kink when I can now see it looks like he was whipped raw tells me this has been going on for at least a few days now, probably longer."

"So, you're telling me that someone with the ATA gene has been torturing him for information and it's going on right under our noses?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, that's exactly what I think."

"So who is it and what do they want with McKay?"

Sighing, he let his shoulders slump a bit. "Now that, I can'na answer. There are probably a million reasons why, but the fact that he said something about a warning makes me wonder if this is'na about that information you found in the data burst. Whoever is responsible would have a hard time getting to anyone directly dealing with it right now, but Rodney was easy prey if they have the ATA."

"But McKay had nothing to do with the data burst this week."

Carson fought the urge to hit the man. "John Sheppard, do you even listen to me when I talk? The injuries I found were older. You said there have been security breaches for weeks now, and much of that classified information was in the burst, correct? Just because you discovered it yesterday does'na mean that was the start of it."

"So what, Rodney got himself in the middle of it?"

"Aye. That or the current issue with his DNA made him a tempting target. If someone is here to try and get information, being able to go straight to the source would be far easier than sneaking around and trying to hack into systems, don'na you think?"

"But if that's the case, it was going on even with him sitting under Lorne's nose. I can't see that happening. Everyone was checked out ahead of time."

"That I have no answer for. I've no idea how long it was going on, but the earliest injuries I found dated back to a day or two before I saw him in the mess. That would coincide with when you and Evan stopped guarding him. It would be a tight timeline, but it could have been done."

"Sheppard?" The whispered word was weak.

Both of them were on their feet and on either side of Rodney's bed at the call. "Rodney? It's Carson. The Colonel's here too. You're safe in the infirmary, lad, with no permanent damage to speak of, although you took a pretty good beating."

"Need to tell you…" Rodney winced, groaning as he shifted a little.

"Take it easy. There's no rush. You're safe here." Carson rested a hand lightly on one of the few areas of Rodney's shoulder that wasn't bruised.

Rodney glanced between the two of them, his eyes glazed with pain. "Was a warning for you."

Carson saw the colonel's hands clench at his sides. "For us? What do you mean?" Sheppard asked.

"To make you stop looking…interfering."

Closing his eyes briefly, Carson reflected that he hated being right sometimes. "So this was about the information being hidden in the data bursts, then. Rodney, why did they target you?"

Rodney glanced at his friend. "Dunno. But please, stop. I don't want to go through that again."

Carson gave him a very sharp look. "Tell you what, if my suspicions are correct, then you either can'na tell us what you know, or you've been ordered to forget it. However, there are ways around every order. I'm going to tell you what I think is going on. You aren't going to confirm or deny anything. You can just answer I don'na know, or I can'na tell you. Will that work?"

He groaned, huddling in on himself a little. "I don't know anything. He was big. Dumb. It hurt. Isn't that enough?"

"No, because you have earlier injuries that were most definitely not received as part of a kink, my friend. But for now, I'm going to go with my assumption that someone with the ATA has gotten to you, and they've thought this through enough to phrase the orders so you can'na give us any real information. For now, you need to stop moving around so much if you can. You've got a lot of injuries, and I don't want you to hurt yourself further."

"…protecting you…" Rodney said, the words mumbled.

Nodding, that confirmed it for Carson. "I don'na doubt it, lad. These last few weeks have been a bloody nightmare for you, haven't they? For now, you're going to be my guest, as I'm not releasing you for at least the next few days and possibly longer. After that we'll see what we can do."

Rodney was drifting back off to sleep, his eyes getting heavier, but he shoved them open again. "Please…just let it go."

Carson shook his head. "I can'na do that, Rodney. You're in this mess because of my mistake. I'll not sit by and let you deal with the fallout alone. For now, go back to sleep. You're safe here among friends for now."

He managed to snag Carson's hand, wincing at the movement. "Please…I know it'll only get worse."

Squeezing his hand lightly, Carson let his expression show his concern and compassion for his friend. "Whoever is doing this wants you to believe you're alone, Rodney, but he's wrong. I'm not going to be reckless, but I will do everything in my power to break the hold they have over you, and protect you from any further harm."

Rodney turned, glancing at his silent friend. "Sheppard…please."

Carson interrupted before the colonel could respond. "Rodney, for now you need to sleep. Your body took some serious abuse, and it needs the chance to heal. Everything else can wait until later."

"Can't."

"Yes, it can," he said gently. "You're barely keeping your eyes open, my friend. Get the sleep you need."

Rodney sighed, pulling his injured arm a little closer to his body, his eyes drifting shut. His breathing evened out a few moments later.

Carson watched him to be sure he was asleep, then went and sat heavily in the chair. "Dear God. What are we going to do?"

"Right now, we're going to try and get to the bottom of what happened tonight. We should have some kind of answer by morning," Sheppard said, his eyes dark. "I'm going to put a guard on his door too."

"Aye, good. In that case, I'm going to have Anne keep an eye on Rodney in here. The sooner I can find a bloody cure, the sooner this won't be an issue."

"I need an updated list of all the natural ATA gene carriers. If you're hypothesis is correct, we're going to have to question all of them. It's the only way to get to the bottom of it."

Carson looked up, one eyebrow going up. "You actually think they're going to confess?"

"No, but it's about time that we shook things up a bit."

"Colonel—"

"Unless you want this to happen again," Sheppard said, his hand gesturing to a deeply sleeping McKay, "you might want to think again. And hold that thought," he said, clicking his radio. "Sheppard here." The soldier listened his eyes widening slightly, before narrowing again, darkening. "I'll send Beckett with a med team. Sheppard out."

Carson was on his feet. "What happened?"

"Grab your kit and a med team. Lorne went to ask Zelenka something about the cameras and found him in his quarters."

"Oh no." Carson was already moving, grabbing supplies and personnel as he started for the door.

"I'm staying here, Doc. Lorne will meet you," Sheppard said, settling back into the guest chair.

Pausing, Carson looked over Rodney, and nodded. "Good. Take care of him." Hurrying, it only took them a few minutes to reach Radek's quarters. Lorne was standing outside. "Major! What happened?"

"I didn't move him, Doc," Lorne answered instead, opening the door. "Looks like he was on the wrong end of someone's fist if I were to take a guess."

Muttering a few choice curses in his native language, Carson moved to the scientist's side, grateful to see no blood, only the beginnings of some nasty bruises. With Shelley, he started to work. The scientist was starting to stir, moaning a bit. "Radek, wake up, lad. Come on, I need to know what happened."

"Disagreement," he finally says, groaning as his eyes open.

"Aye, I can see that. Can you stand? We need to get you to the infirmary, and if not, we'll get a gurney here."

"Standing…may not be a good idea."

"Then don't move. Shelley, call down and have them bring a gurney." The nurse rose and moved away slightly, and Carson turned back to his patient. "How much do you remember? What happened?"

"I was sleeping," he began slowly, "much as I do every night. Door chime interrupted me and I answered, expecting Rodney to have forgotten how to work his radio. I do not remember much after that."

Mentally tallying up the time, Carson felt his stomach drop. "Did you recognize who it was? Can you remember the exact time?"

"Big. Ronon-sized. Time? Middle of the night."

Sighing, Carson carefully tended the man, getting him up into the gurney when it finally arrived. "Unless there's something you're not telling me about, it looks like you've just taken a nasty beating. We'll get you on some pain medication and keep you for the day to make sure nothing else comes up."

"Telling?"

"Pain, lad. I don't feel any broken bones, and there aren't any signs of internal bleeding. But if there's any pain other than the bruises you aren't mentioning, now's the time to speak up."

"That is enough, no?" He groaned as he shifted on the gurney.

"Aye, that's more than enough. Now try not to move too much, it will only make it hurt worse."

"Good advice," he said, closing his eyes, letting Carson work.

"Just relax, and try to remember as much as you can. You aren't the only victim last night, and anything you can think of might help us catch the bloody bastard." They arrived in the infirmary, and he decided to put Radek next to Rodney. That way Sheppard could keep an eye on them both.

Radek peered at him through pain-filled eyes. "What?"

"Someone is takin' exception to our attempts to stop the spying going on."

Radek shifted, confusion and pain on his face as he lifted his head so he could see who else was in the room with him. "Rodney? Dear God," he finally said, lying back. "What has happened?"

"Right now, I just need you to keep still and not aggravate your injuries. Try to remember anything you can, even if seems insignificant, and report it to myself or the Colonel, okay?"

"I…it was dark…late…"

"That's fine. Don't push it, just lie back and relax for a bit. I'm going to check on Rodney." Moving over to the other bed, he caught Sheppard's eye. "Well, Radek took a good beating, but it's not as bad as Rodney. I'd like your guard to keep watch over both of them, if you don't mind."

"Not a problem. I've already given Elizabeth my verbal report."

"Good. What time is it, anyway?"

"Almost 0800."

Rubbing his face, Carson nodded. "Thanks." He looked up and gestured to Anne to follow him into the hall. "Luv, I need you to be my stand-in again for a bit. Keep an eye on Rodney and Radek, and call me if anything changes. I need to get to the labs for a bit."

"You sure you're okay, doctor?" she asked, her forehead furrowing. "You've been up all night."

He gave her a wry smile. "I'm sure I'll be hearing about it later, but I need to do this. If I can remove one element of this little game someone's playing we'll be much better off."

She frowned but didn't comment further on the subject. "Anything specific I need to look for with either patient?"

"Radek has some extensive bruising, but it's all on the surface. They'll be painful, but nothing serious. If he starts to hurt too much, give him some Tylenol, and keep him as still as you can for as long as you can. That should help. As for Rodney, keep an eye on the IV. I have him on a slow-drip of pain meds, so just watch it and make any adjustments you think necessary. I trust your judgment, lass."

She nodded, committing the orders to memory. "And his dressing?"

"I just changed it not too long ago. Check it again at 1200 and change it then, or sooner if it looks like it's seeping."

"Any sign of infection?"

"No, thank goodness. The blade used was clean, and I got to it while the wound was still fresh. It's deep though, and if he wakes up enough to be really aware of it and where it is, he might start to panic a bit. Whoever did it knew Rodney well enough to know where to cut to make a lasting impression." He spit the last words out, fighting to push down his anger. If he got his hands on whoever was responsible for all this...

Anne's hand on his arm brought him back. "I'll watch them, but you should grab a nap. It'll help."

"I'm too angry right now, luv, although I will stop if I need to. Just keep an eye on them for me. I can'na work if I don't know someone I trust is here with them."

"I think the glowering Colonel will put off most," she said, offering a half-smile.

"Aye, but he does'na know how to treat them. Anne, the person doing this could be anyone, even one of ours. I hate this, but right there are only a handful of you I'm willing to completely trust. If you need to leave, get Shelley or Lindsay to come spell you."

"Shelley and I will handle it," she said quickly.

"Thank you. I'll be back by to do my rounds later as well."

"As I expected," she paused, waiting until just before Beckett started to turn away, her voice quiet, serious. "Take care of yourself. We only have one of you."

He stopped, swallowing hard, not quite knowing how to respond to that. "Ah, thank you, lass." Heading down to the familiar space of his research lab, he quickly let himself get lost in the work. He needed an outlet for his own anger and fear, and at least this one was productive.

***

Rodney wandered back to consciousness slowly, surfing in the state somewhere in between sleep and wakefulness. There were people talking, hushed conversations going on near him and the steady beeping and chirping of medical equipment.

He was safe.

Here in the infirmary, Kramer couldn't get to him, couldn't make him do things, say things. He was safe and warm and relatively pain-free.

Without warning, a pillow suddenly hit him in the face.

Rodney jumped, adrenaline rushing through his veins as pain flashed through his body and he cried out, his eyes snapping opening, breath catching.

"I will want that pillow back." The Czech's voice came from nearby. "And you are jumpy. No one will tell me what happened, they keep saying I must lie still and heal. Bah."

Pushing back the scream that nearly left his throat, he rolled on his side, whimpering as his bruises made themselves known, his arm throbbing in time with his rapidly beating heart. "Radek?" he finally asked, his voice weak, his eyes slowly focusing on the man in the adjacent bed.

The man peered at him closely. "Okay, so you look far worse at this angle than you did sleeping. They tell me only that you also got beaten by mad terrorist, not that it was so very much worse. My apologies." He raised his voice slightly, angling his head towards where the nursing station was. "This is why you should keep me informed! Otherwise, I resort to throwing pillows a people who should not have feathers chucked at their head, after attempting to strangle self out of boredom."

"What—" he started, coughing a little, pain flaring. "What are you doing here?"

Sighing, Radek sank back into the bed a bit. "Last night I was awoken by someone at my door. The next thing I knew, there were fists being driven into my body, and I lost consciousness for a bit. Doctor Beckett was then there, and he brought me here, where, other than sketchy explanations that leave much to be desired, I have been left to wonder what is going on. I only knew that you also were injured, and that it is suspected it was the same person."

Rodney glanced across the space separating them, really looking, his brain slowly putting the pieces together. "Nonononononono, that shouldn't have happened," he finally said when everything clicked. "He was supposed to leave you out of it. You should have been safe." The last words were whispered, more to himself than to Radek.

Radek's eyes went wide, evidence that he had heard. "Wait, you allowed someone to beat you to keep them from doing the same to me?" Several soft Czech curses followed. "Rodney, my friend, bullies never keep their promises. You should have come to me, told me. We would have found a way to stop him."

"Was the only way…only way." He glanced around, his mind making the next jump. "Carson, where's Carson?" He tried to sit up, but everything hurt too much, muscles pulling, bruises screaming. He dropped back down into the mattress, groaning, grabbing his arm.

"You must not move. If you injure yourself further, you will be of no use to anyone. I will call nurse if you try again." He paused, watching Rodney settle back down a bit. "Doctor Beckett is in his research lab I believe, working on the cure to your genetic changes."

"Rodney? Radek? What's going on?" Sheppard's voice was familiar, safe.

Looking up, Radek frowned at the soldier. "Why did you not tell me how much more serious Rodney's injuries were? What is going on that you are attempting to hide?"

Sheppard's voice was closer this time. "Long story, Radek, long story." There was a pause before Sheppard continued. "Rodney, buddy, how you doing?"

"Carson. Where's Carson? They got to Radek." Rodney opened his eyes, clutching at the sleeve that was closest to him.

"Hey, don't worry, Carson's in his lab. If it'll make you happy, I can call down and check on him. Just calm down okay. I was told you aren't in any shape to be getting so worked up."

"Check, please."

Sheppard tapped his radio on. "Sheppard to Beckett. Hey Doc, Rodney's awake and needed to know you're still alive and well. Right, I'll tell him. Sheppard out." He tapped the radio again. "Carson says to tell you that if you don't keep still and do what the nurses tell you to do, he'll break out the big needles."

"Radio," he said, his hand reaching to try and snag it from Sheppard's ear.

"Hey!" He dodged easily. "Rodney, you know you can't. Not right now. There's someone out there causing a lot of trouble, I really don't want to risk it getting any worse." The usual smile held a note of worry, and there were lines in Sheppard's face he didn't remember seeing before.

"Radio," he repeated. "Have to talk to Carson. Please."

Staring at him hard, Sheppard tapped the radio on again. "Beckett, this is Sheppard again. Rodney needs to talk to you. Hang on." Taking the radio out of his ear, he handed it over. "Make it fast."

Rodney hooked the device over his ear. It took two tries and John's help before it was in place. "Carson?" He was whispering, but his throat was killing him and that was the best he could do.

"Rodney, what's going on? You should'na be on the radio. Hell, from the sound of your voice, you should'na even be talking much."

"He got to Radek, Carson."

There was a pause. "I know. I'm the one who answered the call when it came."

"He was supposed to be safe…should have been safe."

Carson sighed over the line. "Rodney, someone who would resort to torture, intergalactic espionage, and taking advantage of a person who can'na defend themselves is not a person who can be trusted to keep their word. You're safe there for now though."

"But you're not." His voice was small, but from the long pause on the other end, Carson got the message.

"That's a risk I'll have to take. There are plenty of people around here now, and I'll be back up to the infirmary to do my rounds long before it clears out. I don't know how this bastard got to you, but I will find a way to reverse the effects so you can tell us. Until then, please, just focus on getting better."

"Be careful, please."

"I will. I promise."

"Please."

"Aye, now let me get back to work. I'll be up tonight and we can chat more then, okay?"

Rodney nodded, tugging the radio free and handing it back to Sheppard who was looking at him with barely concealed worry.

"Rodney, Beckett's not even remotely involved in the investigation into the security breach. Why would he be in danger?"

"Something he said."

Frustration flitted across the colonel's face. "Why though? What would be the point? As loathsome as it is, you and Radek make sense, you're potential threats to uncovering his identity. But Beckett's barely leaving his research lab and the infirmary."

"Make sure he's okay, Colonel, please."

He gave him a long look. "Rodney, just how much danger is Beckett in?"

"I don't know." Rodney paused, pulling his arm closer to his body. "Radek should have been safe. Took out everything on me."

Sheppard finally nodded, tapping his radio again. "Lorne, this is Sheppard. I have reason to believe Beckett could be a target of our unwelcome guest. Go haunt him for a bit, make sure he gets back up to the infirmary tonight unmolested. Sheppard out."

Rodney closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I don't know what's going on here, but I trust you." He heard the sound of a chair scraping back, and a body thumping down.

Opening an eye, he regarded Sheppard for a moment. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "It's my turn."

"For?"

"Staying here. Teyla and Ronon went to get some training in. While you two are here, I want one of us in the infirmary at all times. Once you're released, we'll figure something else out."

"Oh." He looked at the colonel for a long moment. "Can I get some water?"

"Sure." He grabbed a cup from a nearby table and handed it over. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore, although not as bad as I should from what I remember."

"What do you remember? Beckett made some guesses as to what happened, but can you tell me what this fucker actually did? Only if you feel up to it though."

"He…he had a device. Put it on my chest. God did it hurt. Burned and then was ice cold. He used it for a long time…" Rodney shifted on the bed, drawing his arms and limbs closer. "He used a knife on my arm…then beat me with a Billie club. God…" He sucked in a breath, moaning a little. "I don't know how long…"

Sheppard was suddenly standing next to him again, his hand resting lightly on Rodney's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, Take a deep breath, okay? It's over, you're safe now. And if I have anything to say about it, he won't get another opportunity."

Rodney heard Radek behind him on the other bed cursing quietly in Czech.

"Rodney, I swear, we'll find this guy, and then there's an internal war going on as to who gets to beat the living shit out of him before we ship him back to Earth in chains. If Ronon gets to him first, I don't even know if there will be enough left for that. Hell, even Beckett's got bloody murder in his eyes. We will get this guy."

"I wish I could believe you," he whispered, closing his eyes against the pain.

***

A sudden beep made Carson jump. He looked over at the alarm, blinking at the time. He couldn’t believe it was so late. It felt like he had just gotten down to the lab and started working. With a frustrated sigh, he began to put things away. After the initial rush of emergency, Elizabeth and Kate had been very insistent he return to their prescribed hours of work.

It was bloody irritating.

Stretching as he stood, he waved to the few staff members still hard at work, and made his way back to the infirmary proper. He needed to check on Rodney, then find some dinner. Radek had been released yesterday with a temporary bodyguard, and Carson was sure his remaining patient was probably bored out of his mind, despite the fact that he was still recovering from his injuries.

He found Rodney rolled on his side, his injured arm tucked in close to his body, his eyes staring blankly toward the wall.

"Is the paint that entertaining then?" He moved to the side of the bed, habit kicking in as he looked over the injuries and automatically checked for improvement.

Rodney shrugged, the movement no longer causing him much pain.

Snagging a nearby chair, Carson settled down next to the bed. "Giving me the silent treatment now?"

"There's only so many times I can answer the same questions everyone asks," he said, eyes resting on Carson.

"I know, but there's a reason we keep asking. I need to know how you're doing, so I can gauge how fast or slow you're recovering. But beyond that, everyone's pretty worried about you."

"I'm the same as I was when Sheppard asked me an hour ago, and the same as I was when Lorne asked the hour before that, and Weir, and Ronon, Teyla, Anne, Shelley…" He sighed. "No one has tried to do anything untoward to me in several days so I think that means things are looking up."

"Funny, I don't actually recall asking how you were doing since I got here, but I appreciate the pre-emptive information. And no one's tried anything because other than the group you just named and Radek, access to you has been restricted. I'll not have half the city trouping through here wanting to gawk. And to answer the question you did'na ask, no, I'm not releasing you yet. You're showing improvement, yes, but I still want to keep an eye on you for a few more days to make sure everything heals up properly."

Rodney sighed, closing his eyes. "What's the difference if I'm here or in my quarters?"

"Here, either myself or my nurses can keep an eye on you, not to mention you're still on an IV. Your vitamin and sugar levels were all off when you got here, and I want to get that stabilized before I release you."

"I'm fine."

Carson shook his head, not really in the mood to argue. "At the moment you're here under my authority as CMO, so you'll just have to accept that you'll be staying until I release you. Now, have you eaten dinner? I haven't, and I'm hungry. I can get something and bring it back for both of us if you're interested."

Rodney scowled, but didn't argue the point. He waved his left hand vaguely in the direction of the bedside table. "I ate something before."

"All right. I can still come back and eat here if you want the company." His stomach decided to make itself heard, and he flushed slightly. "Either way, I'm thinking its past time for me to get a little food in me."

"I'm obviously not going anywhere."

"That isn't what I asked. Rodney, I'd love to come back and keep you company for a bit, but if you aren't interested in talking to me, that's okay as well, I'll just eat in the mess. I know you're feeling a bit caged in, so I'm trying not to force you into being sociable."

"Doesn't really matter," he finally answered, his eyes drifting back to the wall.

Carson fought the urge to scream. God he was tired. After the other night and wasting precious seconds fighting off the effects of the sleeping pills, he had stopped taking them altogether again. "All right, I'm going to run down and grab a meal, then I'll be right back."

His friend shrugged again, the movement small, but enough for Carson to see. "Enjoy yourself. Say hi to the crazy people who beat up on unsuspecting civilians."

"If I run across the bloody bastards, it won't be pleasantries they get from me."

Rodney shrugged again.

Resisting his more basic urges again, Carson turned and headed out the door, nodding to Teyla, who was relaxing in a nearby chair, as he went. His mind on other things, he didn't register the presence of another person in the hallway until he ran right into them, sending them both careening into the walls. "Oof. Sorry!"

"Doctor Beckett, I am sorry," came the British accented reply. "I was not watching where I was going."

"Neither was I, apparently. Sorry Doctor, Kramer correct?"

"Yes, you are correct."

"Sorry about barreling into you like that. I've got quite a bit on my mind." He got himself sorted back out.

"I heard about what happened. Are Doctors McKay and Zelenka all right?"

"Aye, they're both recovering just fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I was just on my way to pick up a bit of supper."

"Of course, Doctor," he said stepping to the side to allow Beckett to pass.

Carson started to pass, then stopped again. The only place this hall led was into the infirmary. "Doctor Kramer, is there something wrong I can help you with? Did you need something from the infirmary?"

"I was hoping to speak with Doctor McKay, actually," he said with a sheepish expression, holding up a fistful of papers, all with various scribbling on them.

Shaking his head, Carson gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, lad, but I'm afraid that will have to wait. Rodney was badly injured, and I've got him on medical leave at the moment, with visitors restricted to senior staff only."

"Oh." His eyes drifted to the papers. "I'm at a stand-still with this and I was hoping he'd be able to help. It'll have to wait then."

"Aye, it will. If it's urgent, you might look up Radek or Miko, however. They're both covering for him at the moment."

A blush flushed his face. "Miko did already. Doctor Zelenka was unavailable earlier."

"I'm sorry about that. I'd suggest trying to catch him later. Rodney won't be cleared for general visitors for a few more days at least." Taking the scientist by the arm, he began to steer him back towards the transporter.

Allowing the doctor to lead him, Kramer offered a light smile. "I will do that, but it may end up waiting until tomorrow. I should get dinner before the more…edible items have disappeared."

"Aye, that's what I'm hoping for as well. I'd offer to join you, but I'll be taking mine back up to the infirmary." He smiled gently.

"That's fine, Doctor. I wouldn't want to impose." They stepped into the transporter and a few moments later were stepping into the mess. One of the scientists spotted Kramer and waved him over, indicating they had a seat open for him. "And it looks like I do indeed have company tonight for dinner. Have a good evening, Doctor, and please send my regards to Doctor McKay. It's a terrible thing to have happened. I wish him a speedy recovery."

"Aye, lad, I will. Have a nice evening." Carson gave him a short wave, and made his way over to the line, quickly grabbing a plate of food and a mug of tea. Trying to carry the tray and sip the tea before it had a chance to get cold, he started back out.

"Need some help there, Doc?" Sheppard asked, appearing at his elbow.

Letting the soldier take the tray, Carson shot him a grateful look, downing the tea in two gulps and leaving the mug on a table just before they walked out. "Thanks. I'm heading back up to eat with Rodney."

"How's Grumpy?"

He took the tray back and used his free hand to pick at the food, talking around the roll. He had been hungrier than he thought. "He's getting depressed and frustrated, with everything that happened, and now being stuck in the infirmary with everyone coming in asking the same questions over and over. I don't blame him for getting a little blue quite frankly."

"And Elizabeth already told him that he's not allowed to have any access to the systems until he's back on his feet and you release him," Sheppard said. "But Lorne did get a lead."

"Did he? Wonderful! What did he find? But I did'na know Elizabeth had restricted Rodney's access to the systems. I was actually thinking about letting him have his laptop. We've already established he can ignore emailed orders, and it might help lift his spirits."

"Well, it was his password that was used to gain access to some of the systems, so we're keeping an eye on it right now. But it seems that Rodney and Radek were right."

Carson blinked at him as they got into the transporter. "What did Evan find?"

"It seems like a big, burly Marine was sighted at both locations—which fit Rodney's and Radek's descriptions. We happen to have two people that match that description. We did a search of their quarters and in one we hit pay dirt. We found a knife—with blood on it. I dropped it off with Anne before to have someone do a DNA test."

The food he had just inhaled seemed to turn to lead. "Ach, I hate this."

Sheppard frowned. "You and me both."

As they neared the infirmary, Carson thought he heard a step behind them, but when he glanced back, no one was there. Shrugging, he focused back on Sheppard. "Well, I'm getting closer to being ready for a preliminary trial on the DNA patch. In another few days, I should be about as far as I can go without going back to the facility, which we can argue about more then. At least that will be one less problem for us to worry about."

"And yes, there will be an argument," Sheppard said, letting Carson step through first. Anne was hovering just outside McKay's room.

"Nurse Matthews," Sheppard said, raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay and any news?"

"Teyla's in with him now. He's…restless," she replied. "And it's a match."

With a quiet curse for American stubbornness and the brutality mentality, Carson straightened up. "I'll go tell Rodney then, and see if I can't distract him for a bit. And Colonel, this conversation is'na over. We don't have a choice, so don't fight me on it. When it comes down to cases, Rodney is more important to this expedition than I am. You can get a new CMO with probably more experience than me. You can'na replace Rodney McKay and you know it."

"We'll see," Sheppard said, moving to a quiet corner of the infirmary and turning his radio on. It seemed he was going to be busy for a long time tonight.

***

Rodney glanced up from his workstation in the main lab, watching as Radek entered carrying his morning coffee, heading for his own computer. It was his first day—after nearly a week—that he was finally on his own.

An ATA-gened Marine was in lock-up, waiting processing before he was to be shipped home for his court-martial. And, with no other incidents, Sheppard and Weir had finally agreed to let McKay, Carson, and Radek off the hook, body guards finally going back to their usual assignments—whatever they might be. The fact that Sheppard, Lorne, Teyla, and Ronon kept "dropping by" meant that they were still keeping an eye on him, albeit an unofficial one—not that it would do any good in the long run. Kramer knew exactly what he was doing.

The Marine—Campbell—professed his innocence, but all the evidence pointed to him. And Rodney was in no position to contradict it, still under Kramer's orders from the night of the beating. He wished there was something more he could do, but until Carson finished his voodoo, Rodney could only sit and watch as an innocent man's life and career were flushed down the proverbial toilet. Motive was still up in the air, but physical evidence didn't lie—at least according to Sheppard.

He was still sore—his arm aching more often than not—but he was finally getting used to working once again, ordering around his minions and sending most away weak-kneed.

"Doctor McKay, it's good to see you back again. I've been waiting to show you my progress." The now-hated British accent came from somewhere behind him.

"Kramer," he said, turning to level his gaze at the man walking up to his workstation. "You've been busy while I've been out I take it?"

"Of course. I do live to please." He glanced around. "Could we adjourn to your office for a moment? I'd like to show you my progress and get your feedback."

"I'd rather stay out here," Rodney said, his voice low.

"I'm afraid that's not an option," Kramer's voice also dropped down to almost a whisper. Louder, he continued. "I'd really appreciate just a few moments of your time. Please."

Nodding, Rodney rose, catching Radek's eye. "Kramer and I are going in my office to discuss the project he's working on. Make sure no one disturbs us until we're done."

Waving his hand absently, Radek grunted an affirmative.

Once the door had closed behind them, the pleasant smile slid off Kramer’s face. “It seems you are still determined to be disobedient, aren’t you? You could have simply rose and come with me, but instead you tried to fight.”

"You're running out of scapegoats," Rodney said, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "You were supposed to leave Radek alone."

Rodney heard the click of the door lock as Kramer sat in the chair. "I never said I would leave him alone."

With a sigh, he knelt, his muscles still sore. "Please, my staff is outside."

"Then I suppose you had better be fairly quiet and draw no attention to this room, don't you think?" Kramer watched him carefully, a slow smile spreading as he observed how careful Rodney was with his arm. "And how are your injuries feeling today?"

"Better than when you left me outside," he replied.

"Ah, yes. The oh-so-irritating Doctor Beckett fixed it right up, didn't he?"

"It was more a matter of time spent lying in the infirmary."

"Now, Rodney, we both know he's working almost around the clock to ensure your health. As a matter of fact, I know he keeps you up to date on his progress developing a way to reverse your slave gene. Since he won't give me any information, why don't you tell me how it's going?"

"I haven’t asked him."

"No, but he tells you anyway. Don't attempt to talk around me, Rodney. You know it will only end in pain."

"No matter what I do, it will end in pain."

Kramer shook his head, laughing softly. "You really are a piece of work. All in all, I'm almost glad you continue to resist. I think I would have been disappointed otherwise, and when you do finally break, it will be all the sweeter. Now," his voice took on a note of command. "Tell me everything you know about how they are fixing the slave gene, and how soon they hope to have it completed."

Rodney answered, wishing his brain and mouth would stop working against him, giving away the very things he didn't want Kramer to know. "He's hoping to go back to the planet in a few days to try things out," he concluded after a relatively long and detailed explanation. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

Staring past him for a moment, Kramer seemed deep in thought. He finally refocused on Rodney, his expression almost wistful. "It really is too bad. I would have liked to stay here and wreak havoc for several more weeks, but it seems I need to manufacture an excuse to bring you back to the SGC sooner rather than later. Once there, I can present you to Ba'al and be exalted as one of his favored disciples."

"That's not going to happen." And there was no way that Sheppard, Weir, Beckett or anyone else would agree to it. That was sure.

"Oh, it will, and you'll help me. In fact, instead of sleeping tonight, you will think of a plan to get us both back to Earth while avoiding all suspicion. I have the utmost confidence in your abilities."

"Please, no, don't—"

"Don't what? Rely on my slave to do what I keep him around for? Make no mistake, Rodney. You are useful only as long as you are providing me with what I want. Once I am done with you, I imagine you will have a rather horrid moment. It will be a sad day when the world realizes the great Doctor Rodney McKay took his own life. He had so much yet to live for. Truly, it will be a tragedy."

"Why are you doing this? Were you dropped on your head as a child? Did your parents hate you because they could see the kind of person you'd grow up to be?"

"Now Rodney, there's no need to get snippy with me. I'll only be forced to punish you for it later. Stand up." He rose to his feet, gathering the papers he had set on the desk when they first walked in back up. "I'm not going to physically punish you, since right now that's a bit risky. Instead, think long and hard about how we will leave Atlantis, and how you can dispose of anyone who attempts to stop us. If you get tired of that, you can even think of all the ways in which you could take your own life when the time comes. I'd imagine you'll want something spectacular, and that sort of thing really shouldn't be left until the last minute."

Rodney paled—from a combination of the pain he was still experiencing and the orders he would be forced to obey—rising to his feet to glare at the other man.

"Enjoy the rest of your day." Kramer smirked at him, then unlocked the door and left.

Rodney managed to stumble over to his chair, dropping into it, his mind already whirling, working at possible situations and possibilities. How the hell was he supposed to get any work done?

Rubbing a hand across his face he jumped when he head someone clear their throat.

Major Lorne was standing in the doorway, looking at him closely. "You okay, Doc? You seem a bit pale. I know Beckett released you, but if you need to go back..."

"No, I'm fine," he said quickly, pushing himself upright. "I am just constantly reminded how close we come some days to complete destruction."

Quirking a grin at him, Lorne leaned against the doorframe in an imitation of Sheppard's usual position. What was it with cocky military men? "Yeah, I try hard not to think about it, otherwise I'd never get any sleep at night."

"Well, we're all grateful the military men of Atlantis sleep on a regular basis," he commented rolling his eyes, his mind already coming up with several ways that he could incapacitate Lorne to sidetrack Beckett from his project. He wanted to shake his head, as if he could shake those thoughts free, but he knew it wouldn't work.

"Yeah, we need our rest to keep the geeks like you safe and protected. You wouldn't want a sleepy guy with a gun standing between you and a Wraith, would you?"

"And where were you the other night?" he snapped, immediately wishing he could pull the comment back.

One eyebrow went up. "I was sleeping, oddly enough. I'm not on the night shift unless there's an emergency. I found Radek and called for medical help." He sighed. "I wish I could have gotten there sooner, or been there to help you out though."

"Campbell is it?"

"That's what it looks like, yeah. We found the knife he used hidden in his quarters with your blood still on it. He's lucky the colonel is the only one with a key to the brig right now. Otherwise, I'm not sure he'd survive to be shipped back. There are quite a few of us who want to teach him what happens when you mess with our geeks."

"Be glad you weren't there. He would have pounded you into the ground."

"No offense, Doc, but I've sparred with Campbell before, and he's never won a match against me. Trust me, he would be the one nursing a few injuries if I had been there."

Rodney shrugged. "You came down here for a reason I imagine. Even if you won't admit it I know the lot of you are still keeping tabs on me."

"Mostly I just wanted to see how you were doing. While you were in the infirmary, they weren't really letting anyone come visit. Figured I'd stop by and reassure myself that you're okay, and offer to come hang out if you ever felt the need to have someone around."

"At my age I am more than capable of keeping myself occupied," McKay sniffed, moving past the major as several, rather disturbing images flashed through his mind. "Right now, I have to make sure none of the other scientists are banding together to blow up Atlantis for the third time today."

Lorne reached out, resting one hand lightly on his arm. "Look, I know, Doc. I'm not suggesting you can't entertain yourself. I just wanted you to know that if you ever want someone around, especially after hours, and you don't want to bother Sheppard, I don't mind coming and playing solitaire or something."

"Solitaire, by its very definition, is a solitary endeavor, Major."

"True, but it can also be done almost anywhere. My room, the mess, even here in the labs, should I want to. You created a monster you know. I never touched the game until you foisted it off on me."

"Wonderful. I'm now going to be accused of ruining the minds of Sheppard's staff. Just what I needed." He paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment before turning back to the major. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. And right now, I need to get back to work."

Lorne dropped his hand, nodding. "Yeah, I need to get back to my own duties. You don't have to take me up on the offer, I just wanted you to know it was out there."

Rodney nodded briskly, once up and down. "Consider it known. Have a good day, Major," he said, sitting back at his workstation, Radek cursing quietly in Czech somewhere on the other side of the room.

Lorne left without another word, leaving Rodney to his daydreams and his work, managed to get both accomplished as the day dragged on. He had lunch with Radek and grabbed a quick dinner with Carson. The man had an appointment he couldn't be late for, which had cut their dinner short, but that was a good thing. Rodney could only look at his friend for too long before he had visions of what he could do to him.

Finding himself at ends after dinner, and restless, he decided to walk, moving through the halls of Atlantis as his mind poured over Kramer's orders. He tried to stay to the more populated areas, walking through the control room and up the stairs to the jumper bay, moving around the large room as he checked each berthed ship.

"Should you be doing that so soon after being released?" Sheppard was leaning against one of the ships watching him.

"Colonel," he said, turning sharply at the voice, the interruption of his thoughts. "I'm just…" he waved his hand, "looking…walking."

"I see that. I've been tailing you for an hour, and usually it doesn't take you that long to notice me."

"Just thinking," he finally replied, his hand resting against the hull of the nearest jumper. Radek had completed its repairs earlier and he hadn't gotten the chance to take a look.

"I figured. You looked pretty lost in your own head. Anything us lower life forms can help with?" The cocky smile was in place, but his tone held a hint of concern in it.

"No, not really. Just…trying to clear my head a bit. Been a long day."

"I can imagine. The science staff always seems to fall apart when you're not around to keep them in line. They all deny it, but without you they aren't half as resourceful."

"They need to learn how to do things on their own. I won't be here forever," he commented, the last bit more to himself than to Sheppard. He moved into the jumper, pulling up the HUD for a moment as he checked on a few systems. Footsteps behind him indicated that the colonel had followed him in.

"Rodney, what's bothering you? I'm not asking as your team leader or the military commander of Atlantis. You're one of my best friends, and I'm still not quite sure how that happened. Even if you don't want me to say anything, sometimes it helps just to talk things out."

Rodney sighed, keeping his back to Sheppard as he looked at the screens he pulled up, adjusting a few things. "You know, we've been pretty lucky."

"Sometimes."

"Compared to the SGC, we've been damn lucky," Rodney corrected, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, spotting Sheppard leaning against the rear cockpit wall. He turned back to the screen, bringing up one more system. "I just…wonder…when that will change."

The colonel took a few minutes before answering. "I don't know. All I can tell you is that luck plays a pretty small part of things. We survive because when push comes to shove, everyone who can contribute something does, and we all pull together. I've been in combat situations before, had people I could call friends on base even, but I've never experienced anything like this. I'm not stupid enough to believe everything will always go the way we want it to. But having something here to fight for, knowing there are people behind me who will fight just as hard, that's what I rely on. Not luck."

Rodney shrugged, shutting down the HUD interface. "I guess." He paused when Sheppard didn't move to let him pass. "You wanted something else?"

"I never thought I'd end up here. I didn't originally sign on as a commander, and once we re-established contact with Earth, I was sure they would give the post to someone else. Sometimes I wish they had, that someone else was making the hard decisions."

Rodney shook his head. "We've been through this before. Elizabeth wouldn't have given it to you if she didn't think you deserve it."

Sheppard shook his head, look a little frustrated. "For the record, they might have listened to Weir's thoughts, but it wasn't her decision. But that's not the point. Look, I suck at this, but don't give up, okay?"

Rodney was silent for a long moment, regarding his friend closely before he had to turn away, another daydream forcing itself to the forefront—the soldier's vacant eyes staring up at him, blood pooling on the floor under his head. "Yes…well…" He stepped around Sheppard, heading for the bay. "I'm going to…ah…" He waved his hand, indicating that he was going to continue his walk that he'd begun earlier.

He looked for a moment like he was going to say something else, then sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow…" Rodney said, nodding once before he moved off, letting his mind and feet take over, walking through the nearly deserted Atlantis hallways. He paused in the control room and again in the labs, his hands drifting over the consoles, as if to reassure himself that they were all still there, that they were all still working.

He finally turned into his quarters just after 0100 hours, exhausted physically and mentally, but knowing that his night was far from over. Thanks to Kramer, he still had hours and hours of scenarios to play through his mind like a debased movie, a little piece of him dying every time his friends did.

***

As Carson entered the conference room, he stood a little straighter, mentally preparing for the battle to come. Sheppard and Elizabeth were both there already, one looking resolute, the other just weary. He quickly settled into his usual spot to wait for Rodney. When the scientist finally arrived—quieter than usual, and Carson made a mental note to check to see how he was sleeping—he took a deep breath and began.

"All right, you all should have gotten my latest report a few hours ago and had time to read it over. I’ve gone about as far as I can without a little advanced knowledge, which means I need to return to the original facility for some testing and additional information and refinement."

Rodney lifted his arm, his pointer finger raised. "First off, I need to mention that this is a horribly bad idea."

"Aye, it is a mite bit dangerous, I'll agree with that," Carson said, throwing an annoyed glace at the astrophysicist. "But I'll be going down alone, and we already know the system doesn't see me as a threat. No one else will be in danger, and I can get what I need to complete the therapy."

Rodney glanced around the room, his eyes flickering over everyone present. "Does anyone else think that this is an insanely stupid idea?"

Before Carson had a chance to answer, Elizabeth cut in. "That's actually why we're all here. I know Carson feels strongly about going back, but I also know both you and John have reservations about it. Before I authorize anything, I want to hear all the arguments. I need more than just assertions that it isn't a good idea however. Carson has presented a fairly compelling case for going back."

"I read his so-called report," Rodney snorted, flipping open the lid of his laptop, "and think that the risks involved are far too high compared with his imagined benefits. First of all, the computer system itself is a menace. Just because he goes there alone doesn't mean that nothing will happen. Ancient systems are far too self-sufficient for us to make that assumption. For all we know, the time that's passed had been more than enough for the system to re-set itself. And God help us if it actually remembers what happened."

"Be that as it may," Carson shot a frustrated glance over at Rodney, "it is still worth the risk. Right now, our best resource is restricted to limited duties, and can't go off-world. As long as I don't attempt a direct interface again, there isn't any reason to expect any danger. With no one else there to worry about, there won't be any temptation to do more than access the material and equipment I need. Without that information and technology, it could take me years to hit on a way to reverse the changes without doing more damage. This way, we're talking a matter of days."

Elizabeth looked back and forth between them. "John? You’ve been awfully quiet, and I know you had a strong opinion on this as well."

Sheppard shifted in his seat, his eyes guarded. "I honestly have to say that I'm not sure. The risks are high that the mission won't succeed, and that Beckett here might be trapped within the system again if McKay is right. However, we can't keep going the way we are. We need to get back to work and that means we need McKay ready to go off-world." He glanced down at his fingers, rubbing one hand in the other. "If we do decide to move forward, I will insist on an entirely ATA gene unit to accompany Beckett. We can't risk losing him after he's gotten this far."

"Natural ATAs. Keep in mind it was the fact that the system could detect my original gene therapy in Rodney that caused it to react to him the way it did. To be honest I'd be happier going alone since I think it would be safer, but I'm willing to accept a few others if that's the difference between going or not." Carson fought to keep the surprise out of his voice. After all Sheppard's talk about fighting him on this, he couldn't believe the man was turning out to be an ally. But he wasn't about to reject the help.

Elizabeth nodded. "I agree, if I do authorize this, you won’t be going alone, and the party will consist of natural carriers. Rodney? Anything else you would like to add? I know you are against this, but I need concrete reasons if you want me to deny the mission request. All of our missions hold an element of danger, and I agree with John and Carson that having you unable to perform at full capacity is a liability worth a certain amount of risk to fix."

Rodney's body had stiffened. "So apparently I'm only worth something to you if I can go off-world and get shot at by primitive natives now?"

Elizabeth sighed. "No, of course not. If you want to be taken off John's team and stay in the labs, I'd understand and we can talk about that after this is all over. We just know the current situation places a great deal of restrictions on you, not to mention has opened you up to danger even here in the city. I'm actually surprised you're the one fighting this. I must admit I thought you would be the first to be advocating allowing Carson to access anything he needs to get this resolved. We are only trying to help you."

"While I appreciate what Beckett has done," Rodney began, his voice tight, "I still don't think this is worth the risk. If something happens to him while he's back on the planet where does that leave me? I'd be in an even worse position with no chance in hell of getting back to normal."

"That is'na true. I've left detailed notes of everything I've done, as well as notes on how to proceed should this not work, and what I'm hoping to find on the planet. On the very off chance something happens to me, one of my staff will be able to pick up right where I left off. I understand your fear, Rodney, but I promise, I will'na leave you in a position where no one can fix you. I have some very talented people working for me who could do as good a job as I can if push comes to shove."

"Notes aren't the same as you," Rodney said, his eyes not quite meeting Carson's.

Carson blinked, not expecting that response. "Nothing is going to happen to me. That's only a precaution."

Rodney's voice was bitter. "That's what we thought the last time and look where that's gotten us."

"Last time we did'na know what to expect, and you and Teyla were there with altered DNA that set off certain alarms. This time we can take better precautions, and knowing what to expect we can plan ahead. I need to access the database for only a small while, an hour at most. If I’m really lucky, I can use it to make some of the more advanced refinements directly, creating the antidote. And then we can get out again."

"Let someone else do it."

"No one else can, I'm the only one of my genetics staff with the ATA. Not to mention, as you just pointed out, I have the most intimate knowledge not only of what we need, but also of how the system is organized. I can get in and out faster than anyone else."

"And if something happens, what then?" Rodney's eyes finally stopped wandering, this time glaring at Carson, a mixture of emotion floating through them.

"Rodney... I know you're worried, but please trust me on this. I know it's a risk, but I need to do this to get you back to normal as fast as possible. If worst comes to worse, the Colonel can bring Ronon's stunner along. That worked fairly well last time."

"I trusted you the last time."

Carson felt his eyes go wide and the blood drain from his face. He didn’t even know how to respond to that.

"Rodney!" Elizabeth’s voice was sharp. "What’s gotten in to you? Carson is only trying to do what he thinks is best."

McKay slammed his laptop closed, roughly shoving his chair back as he rose. "Are we done here? Because if we are, I have work to do."

"Rodney, sit down. We're not finished yet, and won't be until I make a final decision. I understand that you're afraid of something else going wrong, but I need you to focus and try to set that aside. As my Chief Science Office, you are the best qualified to tell me exactly what the risks are here, and I need to hear that."

He shook his head, moving to the door. "You've obviously made up your mind. Hell, you even got Sheppard to go along with you and you're not listening to me. So, I'm going to go back to my lab and actually do something useful."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth half rose from her seat. "Please sit back down. I haven't made up my mind yet, and I don't plan to do that until I have all the information. You obviously feel very strongly about this, despite being the one with the most to gain if it goes right. Please, tell me why you think it's a bad idea."

He rounded on her, his laptop clutched to his chest with one hand as his other waved and pointed. "The fact that we have no idea how the system will react when he goes back is reason enough. I have no way to predict how it's repaired itself and how much it remembers. Carson's so-called easy mission will very likely go very badly very quickly and we'll lose any chance of actually figuring out how to get me back to normal." His voice dropped, the tone bitter once again. "Forgive me for my well-developed sense of self-preservation, but I have no intention of losing the one chance in hell I have."

"Can you make any recommendations on how we could make this safer? I admit I share your reservations about letting Carson go back in, but I also don't want you to have to suffer through this any longer than necessary. Is there any way we can run tests from afar to determine how safe the base is before anyone goes back in?"

"None that I know of, no."

"What would you recommend then? Not sending anyone and possibly waiting several years for a way to reverse the changes made to your DNA isn't really an option. But I'm willing to hear any other alternatives to sending Carson you can think of."

"I don't have any," he growled. "If I had some brilliant plan to pull our proverbial asses out of the fire once again, trust me, I would have shared it."

Carson saw her look at him, but he was still in a bit of shock from Rodney's earlier words. He let the discussion roll on around him. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she turned to Sheppard instead. "What do you plan to do to keep him safe? Who will you take if I authorize this mission?"

"A well-armed military escort," the colonel replied, his eyes fixed on the still standing scientist.

Carson shook his head, snapping himself out of it. "You din'na have that many men with the ATA gene naturally. I appreciate the thought, and believe me I'd love to have them, but at this point I don't even want to risk anyone stepping through the gate who doesn't have the gene. I can't remember how far out the sensors range, and I din'na want to risk more people."

"And if we're going through this, we need to make sure you're safe," Sheppard said, his eyes narrowing. "McKay, you have somewhere else to be?"

Rodney lifted his chin, his gaze battling with Sheppard's. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Rodney, please have a seat. We need to find a solution everyone is happy with." Elizabeth had on her 'placate the natives' face.

"You're obviously going through with Carson's insane plan and I have no intention of being any part of it. It's not worth the risk." He moved again, his hand rising to open the conference room door.

"Rodney." Carson called out softly. "What do you want me to do? I can only go so far on my own, and I won't leave you this way. What do you want from me?"

The scientist's hand froze, hovering over the panel, his face hidden in the shadows. His answer was quiet, whispered, pained. "I don't want you to put yourself at risk for me."

"You're my friend, and this was my mistake to fix. I can't and won't sit by and let you suffer. This is a risk I have to take. I promise, I'll do everything I can to minimize the danger, but I need to go."

He turned, his face for once holding no emotion. "You're obviously going to do what you want, no matter what I say or do. So, if there's nothing else, I need to check on some projects that are currently running." This time his hand moved and the door opened, letting the light from the control room flood into the conference room.

Carson didn't try to stop him this time, instead watched him leave, then turned back to Elizabeth and Sheppard, who were both watching him. "I need to do this. Please. The colonel and Evan can come since they both have the ATA, but I need to go in alone, at least until we know for sure that it won't attack them. An hour. Give me that much time at least."

Elizabeth's gaze was still focused on the now closing door, her face showing her weariness and concern. "What can the database tell you that you can't do here?"

"For one, exactly what was injected into Rodney, and how it worked. I can make some educated guesses based on the results, but having the actual drug information will speed things along a great deal. Also, they were far more advanced in their genetic research. I intend to bring a sample of the therapy I’ve developed so far—if I can use the facility to make advanced changes, we’ll have a better chance of it working without complications."

"I thought the database information was downloaded when you were there last," she said, tilting her head to the side.

"Aye, part of it, and it's been very helpful. But not the whole thing, and not what was specifically given to Rodney. To be honest, at this point I don'na much care about the rest of their experiments; I just want the specifics on his case."

"Isn't that part of the data?"

"Nae, it wasn't. We had started with the older information when the original download and translation began, and pulled out before it finished. So we have a lot of information on the earlier experiments, but nothing on the later stuff they were doing, which is where Rodney would fall."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, glancing down at the PDA in her hands. "To be honest, I’m not…happy with the current situation or this solution."

Carson resisted the urge to growl in frustration. "I need to do this. Please, I know it's a risk, but I can'na sit by and watch my friend lose himself. I don'na know how much of Rodney's current attitude is related to the situation, but I can'na risk that some of it is the changed chemicals altering how he thinks. I don'na know, and until I can get in there and verify what he was given, I can'na reverse it."

"And what if you go there, risk yourself and your escort only to find out that you can't fix it. What then?"

Slumping back into his chair, Carson shook his head. "Then, I'm out of ideas. I'm just not as advanced as the Ancients were. I don'na have the knowledge or the skill to completely reverse something this complex without help, and right now the only help available is that computer system. Believe me, if there was any other way, I'd take it, since I have absolutely no desire to be sucked back in to that thing again. Quite frankly it terrifies me, but I have to do this."

She pursed her lips, glancing down briefly once again before picking up her head, looking at him directly. "I'm going to approve the mission, but I'm not entirely convinced this is the right thing to do. John, I want you to make sure Carson is safe, and you are to pull him out at the first sign of trouble. I will not lose both my CSO and CMO because of this. Am I clear?"

Carson nodded, rising. "I think that's a fair compromise, thank you. When can we leave?"

"John?"

Sheppard straightened in his chair. "Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. I need the time to go over things with my team."

Carson nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon then. And please, at the very least don't include anyone who I've even tried the gene therapy on, if you're going to insist on bringing people other than natural ATAs. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"That won't be a problem," Sheppard said rising, his long strides taking him to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have a mission to plan."

Carson smiled, then nodded to Elizabeth. "I've got my own preparations to make lass, so if you'll excuse me as well?"

"Carson…" she began, her voice trailing off.

He stopped, keeping his face neutral. "Aye?"

"Be careful, please. Rodney's right. This whole situation is way out of our arena of comprehension and if anything happened to you…"

"I know. My people know everything I know, however, so if this goes badly, you won'na have lost any actual information. You'll still be at the same place we're at now."

"No, Carson," she said, shaking her head, "we'll be much, much further behind."

He ran a hand across his face. He didn't even try to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. "Some days, I'm not so sure of that."

"We're sure and that's all that matters. Take care of yourself out there and listen to John. He has good instincts. We're not trying to block you, or stop you from fixing this, but we also have to be practical and smart about it, too."

"Aye, I'll be careful. Believe me, I already know what will happen if I let the system pull me back in, and I've no desire to go there again." He reached out to touch her arm, and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Try to get some rest, you look like you could use it."

The corner of her mouth lifted along with one of her eyebrows. "Isn't that something along the lines of the pot and the kettle?"

His lips quirked up. "That's one of the perks of being CMO. I get to tell others how to be healthy, regardless of whether I follow my own advice or not."

"It would be more…convincing if you did."

"When this is all over, I promise I'll try. After what happened last time I took those dratted sleeping pills, I've been avoiding them. But once everyone's back to full health, I'll try to take a wee vacation and get some rest then. Okay?"

Her expression turned serious. "This…" her hand waving in the air before her in a very Rodney-like gesture, "will never be over."

"No, but we can only take it one day at a time, and one problem at a time. If we start worrying about all the things that might happen in the future, we'll never get anything done."

She shook her head. "Get some sleep, Carson. You look like you could use it and you need to be rested before you head out tomorrow." She paused, her eyes narrowing a little. "Have you tried to talk to Rodney?"

"Aye, we've talked a few times, but nothing much. He's not happy about the situation, and to a certain degree I think he blames me for it. I can'na fault him for that, which is why it's all the more important I get this fixed. I'm worried about him. He's withdrawing from everyone, even those of us he can call friends. The sooner this is over, the better off we'll all be."

Elizabeth's eyes darkened, but she nodded. "Get some rest. We'll talk more when you get back."

"Aye." He turned and headed down towards his office. He had a lot to get done before leaving tomorrow.

***

 

Rodney raced out of the control room, his laptop clutched to his chest, heading anywhere except where his friends were. The images…visions…daydreams, whatever you wanted to call them were just getting worse. When everything was said and done, he needed to spend a long time talking to Kate about his repressed violent tendencies.

And after everything that Rodney had been forced to do, betraying Atlantis and everyone in it, Carson was still insistent on risking his life for him.

He wasn't worth the risk.

Slamming into the labs, he settled into his workstation, immediately diving into the lab reports, checking and double-checking the various experiments running. He lost himself in the work, his mind filled with equations and science instead of the nightmares he'd been plagued with.

"Doctor McKay? Could I have a moment of your time? It's about our project." The smooth voice cut in to his consciousness.

Kramer. Just what he needed.

Looking up, he offered a pained, tight smile. "Of course."

They moved into his office, the door sliding shut and locking behind them. Kramer slipped into his usual chair, a slight smile on his face. "So how did your meeting go, Rodney?"

"Fine," he said, sliding down to kneel before the scientist.

"This was where they were deciding whether or not Beckett gets to take a field trip, were they not? What happened?"

"Beckett wants to go. Sheppard and Weir are undecided. I tried to convince them it was a bad idea. When I left they hadn’t decided."

"Somehow I doubt highly they will decide against it. You are, after all, their favorite pet genius." Kramer looked him over. "Why don't you tell me some of the ideas you came up with for 'neutralizing' Doctor Beckett. I'll stop you when I hear one I like."

Rodney held back a sigh, dropping his eyes as he began. "We could always wipe the information from the mainframe."

"Knowing the good Doctor, there's a backup. I know you can do better than that."

"I'd find the back-ups. Delete them too. He'd have to start from scratch."

Kramer leaned over and casually hit him on the side of the head, hard enough to knock him sideways for a moment. "Try again. Let's hear some of the fabled McKay problem solving."

"He's a good man. Why are you making me do this?"

"Partially because he is getting in my way, and partially because it will hurt you to do so. The sooner you truly understand who is in charge here, the better off we'll both be. Now stop stalling."

Rodney closed his eyes, releasing a long breath before he began, telling Kramer all the ways he could injure and maim the doctor, his friend—from lab accidents to deliberate injuries—enumerating the various scenarios and situations. He even told him about the one idea he'd had when he'd tried to delete the files and Carson had walked in on him, forcing Rodney to kill him with his sidearm.

He finally ground to a halt, his head hanging as he waited.

Kramer was quiet for a long while, watching him with a slight smile on his face. "I don't think I want you to kill him, not just yet. A murder would make moving around extremely difficult, although I will hold that in reserve should it become necessary later. For now, why don't we just put him out of action for a bit? Tell me Rodney, what's your favorite method of the ones you've just described for me?"

"A lab accident, probably. But he's not working with anything that would lend itself to one," Rodney finally admitted, his face flushing.

A cruel smile crossed his lips. "I'll tell you what, I'm going to give you a certain amount of independence, as I've found that slaves allowed to think for themselves a bit perform better in the long run. As long as Beckett is in the infirmary by morning, you can do whatever you like to him."

"Please," Rodney glanced up, his eyes wide, pleading with the man sitting beside him, "don't make me do this. Please."

"He has been far too perceptive, and he is too clever for his own good. Getting him out of the way for a bit will give us some breathing room. After all, we can't risk him finding a way to reverse your slave gene just yet, now can we?"

"No, apparently not," Rodney growled in answer.

"Tell me, would you prefer I order you to kill him? You are getting off light, in that I am only asking for you to temporarily remove him from the picture. I can be persuaded otherwise if you choose to be uncooperative however."

"No. No, I don't want that."

"I didn't think so." Kramer rose from his seat, gesturing for Rodney to rise as well. "You have until sunrise tomorrow morning. Have a pleasant night." With that Kramer unlocked the door and left, not bothering to look back.

Rodney dropped into the nearest chair, his body shaking with suppressed anger, revulsion, and fear.

He stayed there for several minutes, waiting until he could get himself under control and wishing that he had some way to get out of this situation.

He was trapped.

He finally rose to his feet, his mind whirling as he tried to decide what would cause the least amount of pain for his friend and be enough to make Kramer happy. A simple lab accident might be the way to go. A short circuit in the equipment should do the trick. Quick and painful and usually not deadly.

Moving slowly, he stepped into the main lab. Grabbing a toolkit, he headed out the door and into the hallway. He had work to do.

***

Carson sighed over his tea, poking with his other hand at the remains of dinner on his tray. Tomorrow. He would finally, hopefully, get the last few pieces he needed to put everything back together again. If he could just keep it together and not let the damn system find a way to suck him back in.

After a few minutes, he stood up, saying good-bye quietly to the few people still in the mess as he deposited his dishes and made his way back to his lab. He had a few experiments to wrap up before going to head to bed. It took him a moment to notice he wasn’t walking alone, and with a start he stopped, staring up at his new companion. “Ah, hello. I did'na see you there, son.”

"Sorry, doc, didn't mean to startle you," Lorne said, sliding up to rest a hip against the table.

"No, that's all right. What can I do for you?"

Lorne shrugged. "Just checking in. I swung by the labs earlier to check on Rodney. He was busy working on one thing or another. Ran into Ronon who said he'd catch up with him later, make sure no one hassled him before bed. He'll probably swing through the labs just before Rodney usually heads to bed. Also, Sheppard gave me the low-down for the mission tomorrow."

Carson moved the rest of the way into the lab, moving over to his equipment. "Aye, hopefully I can get the answers we need there. Who else besides you and the colonel will be going?"

"Two other guys. They're new but have the natural ATA gene. I'm not sure where the colonel found them, but we're ready to go."

Something inside his chest loosened up a bit at that. "Good. That screwy system seems to give natural carriers a certain amount of immunity, but I don'na know how it would treat people with no gene at all. I really did'na want to find out."

"Sheppard insisted. I do have to tell you that we're going in armed to the teeth, though." Lorne asked, shaking his head. "We could decimate a small planet with the stuff we're bringing."

"That does make me feel a bit better." Carson smiled at him and then looked over his equipment. "Bloody hell, why couldn't I have chosen a profession without so much stuff to carry?"

"We could take less of it, you know."

"Aye, and then I'd have to convince Elizabeth and Sheppard to let me go back a second time because I forgot something I needed, when I darn near didn't get approval for this time. No, its all got to come. And the worst of it is, I have a few things finishing up I have to wait for before I can even pack it."

"Still? I thought you were all ready to go."

"No. I was having dinner while I waited for this. I had a few ideas I wanted to try before we go. The more I can figure out on my own, the less time I need to spend there."

"Oh." Lorne paused, glancing between the equipment and Beckett. "Are you sure we can't take less?"

Chuckling quietly, Carson turned as a timer went off nearby. "I'm afraid not, but that sound means the tests I'm running are complete. I should be able to start packing it up in a moment." He moved over to the table where some of the machines were humming softly. "I won't make you carry anything though. Unlike some scientists I know, I don'na view the military as my personal pack mules. I'd rather your hands were free to shoot anything that wants to eat us."

"On Atlantis, that's not a high probability," Lorne commented, watching as Beckett sorted through several reports and checked the laptop attached to one of the machines.

"Aye, but you never know off-world." Carson blinked a few times, shaking his head at the odd readings. "Blast it, something was off." Turning around he started over to the one machine that wasn't humming. "Why is it off? I could have sworn I left it running, just like the rest of them."

"You have gremlins, Doc?"

"Apparently." He reached out to flip the switch, and suddenly his world went bright white. He vaguely heard someone shouting, but it faded away as the white turned to black and overtook him completely.

***

Lying in his bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, Rodney pulled his arms tightly around himself, wishing he could forget about what he'd done, about the bypass he'd rigged. He'd done the work quickly, returning back to the lab without anyone noticing he'd been gone. He headed to his quarters a few hours later, acting like there was nothing wrong, that he hadn't tampered with a machine with the sole intention of injuring his friend.

A little more power and Carson would have been dead, but Rodney knew what he was doing and had been sure that the shock would just temporarily injure his friend.

It didn't make him feel any better.

He drifted through the night, sleep coming in small batches when he wasn't woken by nightmares.

Rodney's door chimed, and he heard Sheppard's voice through the panels. "Hey, McKay, open up."

Glancing at the clock and noting the early-morning hour, he dragged himself upright, the blanket pooling in his lap. He opened the door with a quick mental command, the light from the hall spilling into his room.

John looked like hell, his hair sticking up more than usual. "Hey, can I come in? I'm guessing no one came to tell you what happened yet."

"What happened?" His voice was no more than a croak and Sheppard took the question as an invitation to enter.

Sliding into Rodney's chair, he leaned back a bit. "Beckett was hurt. Lorne was with him, and said he went to turn on a piece of equipment that was off when it shouldn't have been. Next thing he knew the Doc was arched up, electric current running all along his body. When it finally stopped, Carson was almost dead. By the time they got him to the infirmary, his heart had stopped." Sheppard stopped to run a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "They got it going again, but it's been touch and go. They don't think he'll wake up for a few days at least."

Rodney felt himself pale, and he pressed his hands into the mattress to hold himself upright. That shouldn't have happened. He'd rigged the device—but not to do that. "But…how?"

"We don't know," Sheppard sighed. "As far as we can tell, Beckett had left an experiment running and that one piece malfunctioned for some reason. If you don't mind, I'd like you to take a look at it and see if you can figure out what went wrong."

"Radek can do that. He's better at it," Rodney said instantly.

One eyebrow went up. "Since when do you admit anyone is better than you at anything? And anyway, feel free to get him to help, but honestly, I'd feel better if it was you. God, we were taking him back to that damn planet," he paused, looking over at the clock, "this afternoon. Damn."

Rodney closed his eyes, swaying a little. Carson was in the infirmary because of him.

"Rodney, hey! Stay with me." Sheppard was next to the bed, his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "I know this is a bit of a shock, believe me. That's why I thought I should be the one to let you know. They kicked everyone out of the infirmary who doesn't actually work there, but we can get in to see him in a few hours."

"I think…I think I need to lie down," Rodney finally managed to say, the words quiet, murmured, but Sheppard heard him.

"Yeah, it's been a bitch of a day." The colonel was quiet for a moment and then Sheppard's hand squeezed tightly for a moment. "I'm gonna go catch a few hours of sleep if I can. Try to do the same, and I'll see you in the infirmary in a bit. After that, Lorne can take us down and show us which piece of shit malfunctioned. Okay?"

Rodney nodded, allowing Sheppard to lever him down into the nest of covers on his bed. The silence thick between them—Sheppard with his worry his anger, Rodney with his guilt. Sooner or later, Sheppard would know the truth about him and all that anger would be aimed at him and he'd deserve every ounce of it.

The lights suddenly dimmed as the other man stood up. "See ya in a few hours." He turned and started back for the door.

"Sheppard?" Rodney managed to get himself up on one elbow, needing to know. "Is he going to be okay?"

Sheppard stopped, half turning back to the bed. His voice was quiet, tired. "I don't know. The nurses said he took a huge amount of electrical current through his body. If they hadn't gotten to him as fast as they did, he wouldn't have made it, but if he gets through the night, they think he'll eventually pull through."

He nodded, letting his body sink back into the mattress, the quiet hiss of the door the only indication that the colonel had left.

When the door opened an hour later, he wasn't surprised.

Major Evan Lorne was standing in the doorway, and he looked worse for wear. "Mind if I come in?"

"Would it matter if I said yes?"

The soldier's shoulders slumped a bit. "I can go. I just, you know, didn't want to go back to my room, since every time I close my damn eyes I see him arching his back and..." Shuddering, Lorne leaned against the door.

"What so you thought I'd want to talk about how a friend of mine was just electrocuted?" He wanted to tone down the bitterness, but he couldn't.

"Honestly? Not really. I just didn't want to go back to my room alone. I really don't want to relive that any more times tonight. Like I said, I figured you'd be awake and maybe want some company, too. Sorry I bothered you." Lorne started backing out of the room.

"Colonel Sheppard might be in more of a mood to talk. He was in here not that long ago," Rodney finally spit out as Lorne paused in the doorway.

"I passed him in the halls a little while ago. He looked about ready to pass out on his feet, and he doesn't need me sitting on his floor like some stupid kid afraid to go to sleep. Look, I'm sorry, really. I'll catch you later I guess."

Rodney let him go this time the major's words making him feel even guiltier than he'd been before. Slumping into his bed he tried to fall asleep, but he could picture in his mind just what had happened and every time the electricity shocked his friend he'd bolt upright, his heart pounding, threatening to jump out of the chest.

As the sun was starting to come up, his door opened yet again. Kramer, however, didn't bother to ask permission to enter. He made his way in, the door locking with a quiet click behind him.

Rodney glared blearily up at the man, his body already moving to scramble out from under the warm blankets, his bare knees resting on the ground as he kneeled.

Kramer smiled and reached over to pet Rodney's head. "Good boy. I heard about the little accident in the labs."

McKay tried to shrug off the hand, but Kramer just moved it, gripping his chin and forcing him to look up at him instead, holding his head tightly in place.

"I did have a few little pointers for you, however. Your original plan was quite good, but a tiny jolt was not what I ordered you to provide. I was forced to clean up your mess. I won't punish you, because the idea and the execution was quite good. You just neglected to increase the power output. I'll assume it was an oversight, one that won't happen again."

"My plan would have been fine," he spit out.

He shook his head. "Ah, Rodney, you just aren't ready yet for independent action, are you? You need me to give you very direct instructions, like a small child. Don't worry though, I will be more than happy to ensure you get the proper instruction to be a good little slave when you grow up."

"I knew exactly what I was doing," he replied, narrowing his eyes at the scientist. "The voltage I set would have been sufficient."

"It would have given him a jolt yes, but it wouldn't have been the kind of emergency to keep him out of action for a while. When I told you he didn't have to die, I thought it was understood that he should get as close as you could take him."

"You almost killed him," he growled, trying to pull away.

"That was the point." The hand tightened painfully on his chin.

"No, it wasn't. You just wanted him out of the way temporarily. You didn't need to do that to him."

Kramer's eyes had narrowed. "I think next time I am going to have to order you to use lethal force, aren't I? Who shall it be? Your pet soldier? I saw Lorne hovering here before. The little twerp is, next to Beckett, the only one who seems to realize something isn't quite right. Would you like to feel his blood run through your fingers?"

"No. God, no."

"I could tell you to use a knife. Run it through him a few times, and stay to watch him die, watch as the light in his horrified eyes fades away. Or maybe the bitch Weir. I could tell you to rape her before you kill her. Or Sheppard. Would you like to know what it feels like to shoot a gun into someone at point-blank range? Or are you going to stop fighting me and be a good little slave?"

"Oh, God, please don't," he managed to say, begging.

Kramer's hand moved into his hair, clenching into it and pulling hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Next time you think about arguing with me, remember those options."

"Haven't you done enough?" he asked, his voice quiet, rough.

Kramer leaned down, his hand clenching harder. "Not even close."

"What else do you want from me?"

"I want the Great Rodney McKay begging me to let him serve. I want you to yearn for my approval. And you will, eventually. You will break, and then you will spend the rest of your life serving me. If I have to force you to destroy everything you love to bring you to that point, I will."

"That will never happen."

"It will. And when it does, it will be a sweet victory."

"No," McKay said, managing to shake his head even as the other man tightened his grip. "I won't."

"I love a good challenge." Kramer finally released his grip, shoving Rodney backwards as he stood straight. "I do believe I'll go have some breakfast. It's going to be a lovely day."

"I hope you choke on it," Rodney muttered, the words quiet.

Kramer casually pulled a foot back, and kicked him hard in the stomach, making him double over. "Now now, we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to me, since if it does, you are now under orders to kill every one of your friends in the manner I mentioned earlier. So you had better start thinking of ways to keep me safe, instead of wishing for the opposite."

Rodney coughed, cradling his middle even as he glared up at the other man. "But at least you'd be dead," he finally managed to say, still breathless.

"Ah, but so would everyone else, and I think if that were to happen, I'd still win."

"But they'd stop me before I finished and then I wouldn't have to worry about you anymore."

"And you're willing to risk their lives on so flimsy a hope? And note that I didn't mention I had to die for you to go on your little spree." He pulled a small knife from out of somewhere, and placed it against his palm. "Only that I had to get injured. Want to test it Rodney? I can stand a little pain, and you can see how many people you can kill before they stop you. Would you like me to add a few more to the list, so you have a challenge?"

"I know Sheppard and Lorne." Rodney glanced up from where he'd slumped against the side of the bed. "They'd make sure I didn't finish. They'd be able to stop me."

"Sheppard is asleep right now, and Lorne was a bit dazed from watching the good Doctor nearly die. I have faith in your abilities that you could take them out before they had a chance to respond. Especially since they wouldn't be expecting anything."

"But that's it: they know something's wrong. No one trusts me anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if they already knew what you were up to and they were just waiting for the right moment to arrest you."

Kramer laughed, and put the knife away. "I admire your courage. Breaking you is proving to be a very nice challenge indeed. Enjoy your day, Rodney, we'll chat again soon." He turned and left.

Rodney groaned and slumped further down, cradling his stomach and wishing the ground would just swallow him up.

This would all be over soon.

***

As he drifted back into awareness, Carson felt the fuzziness that meant there were some seriously powerful drugs in his system. Beyond that, he sensed the pain the drugs were holding back, although he was at a loss to explain what had happened.

Trying to force his eyes open, he shifted slightly, which brought the pain front and center. Without realizing it, he let out a whimper, immediately stilling.

A light touch on his arm was quickly followed by a quiet voice. "Doctor Beckett? You're in the infirmary. Please relax. You're going to be just fine."

The touch set off a new round of pain, and he whimpered again when an attempt to move away just made it worse.

"Doctor," Anne said, her voice pleading as her hand drew away. "Please stop moving. You're only going to make it worse. I’m getting Doctor Biro."

"What...happened?" It hurt to talk, but he needed to know.

"There was an accident," she said. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Lab," he said softly.

"Yes, that's where it happened. Anything else?"

"No," he whispered after a moment of trying, and he started to feel the panic building. What had happened? Before he could stop himself, he fidgeted slightly, which brought back the pain and tore a moan out of him.

"Beckett if you continue to insist on doing that you're just going to cause yourself unneeded pain," Biro said, her no-nonsense voice cutting through.

He panted slightly, trying to force himself to stay still. "Please..."

"I need to assess you before I can give you anything else, so why don't you open your eyes and let's see how you're doing?"

"Please, what happened?" He forced his eyes open, flinching slightly at the bright lights.

Biro flashed a penlight into his eyes as she answered. "I think that's my question for you. How much do you remember?"

He closed his eyes again, turning his head away from the light and moaning again at the movement. "Lab. I remember the lab."

"What else?" Her hand was on his wrist, checking his pulse and taking his vitals.

He tried to pull away from the touch, close to sobbing. "Please stop. Hurts."

"Skin still sensitive?"

"Yes. Lindsay, what happened? Please tell me." He tried to force himself to stay still.

"One of your machines decided to give you a little jolt. Knocked you out for a bit," she replied, writing a few notes on his chart.

"Jolt?" He opened his eyes again, ignoring the pain for the moment in his shock. "How much current? To feel like this it must have been..." He felt the panic starting to take hold again, and he started to breathe more heavily.

"A little more than is routinely healthy, yes," she replied. "We're still waiting on the final accident report."

"How bad was it?"

Biro glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You had us worried."

"How long have I been out?"

She sighed. "Nearly thirty-six hours."

He felt himself starting to hyperventilate. He knew what that meant, how bad it had to have been for him to be unconscious for that long.

"Carson," Biro said, the light touch of her hand bringing him back. "There's no need to panic. You're going to be fine."

He flinched away from the touch, and that only served to make things worse. He took several deep breaths, going through the exercises he regularly had his patients use when they were starting to panic. It helped, but he knew he probably still looked a bit wild-eyed. Needing the distraction, he let his brain slip into doctor mode. "Tell me what happened. What drugs am I on? Need to know."

"You were electrocuted, Carson, and right now you need to lie back and let us do our job while you do yours—which is getting better."

"Heart stopped?" He did a quick assessment of his pain levels and fuzziness. "Morphine?"

Biro scowled. "Yes and yes."

He took another few deep breaths. "Oh, God."

"Doctor Zelenka finished his review of the device earlier and we're waiting to get his final report on the size and length of the voltage."

"Does he know what happened? Preliminary reports? None of my equipment should have been capable of a jolt that could have done this."

"He hasn't released any data, no. But we told him as much when he started looking into it."

"How close was it? How close did I come?"

"Come to what? Dying? Too close for comfort which is why you need to rest and get your strength back."

He shuddered slightly, which just hurt. "What else is happening?"

"Nothing you need to be worried about. Now, I'll give you a little more painkiller to get you comfortable," she said, already adding the clear liquid to his IV port. "Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne have been hovering. Are you up for a visitor now or would you rather wait?"

The drugs took the edge off both his pain and his panic, but he wasn't ready to sleep yet, wanted the distraction. "Visitors would be good."

"Okay. I'll be right back," she offered a smile but refrained from patting his arm before heading into the main infirmary, leaving him alone for several minutes.

He drifted, letting the painkillers do their work as he tried to remember what had happened. But other than vague memories of being in his lab for something, everything was fuzzy. He opened his eyes again at the sound of shuffling feet nearby.

Sheppard settled in the chair adjacent to the bed, raising an eyebrow at Beckett. "I didn't think you needed an extra roasting."

Carson gave him a slightly grin, moving his head only slightly so he could see the other man. "Apparently my life was'na interesting enough."

"Oh, I think it was. You just wanted to give the rest of us a good scare." John paused, looking at him carefully. "You don't look extra crispy."

With a slight sigh, Carson shook his head. "I feel it though. Good drugs are keeping it mostly under control."

"We're going to figure out what happened," he finally said after a long moment of silence. "I don't like the feel of this whole thing."

"Feeling? I don't remember much, just being in the lab. Lindsay wouldn't really tell me anything. What happened?"

"We're not sure exactly. Lorne said you went to turn on a device that should have been left on and it gave you one hell of a jolt." He paused again. "It's just too coincidental, especially after the meeting and McKay's beating a week ago. There's more going on here."

Carson felt his eyes go wide again. "You think it was deliberate? They said my heart stopped... Someone tried to kill me?"

"Once I get Radek's report, I'll know for sure."

"Oh, God."

"McKay had said that his beating was a warning to us to stop looking. And now this…and Rodney's cryptic comment in the meeting. It seems like we might not have the only perpetrator in custody."

"Why me, though? Why would someone want to kill me?" he hugged his arms to his chest, the drugs keeping the pain the movement caused to a minimum, and he needed the comfort.

"I don't know, but I imagine it has something to do with what you're working on."

"All I've been working on lately is fixing Rodney's DNA. Why would someone want to stop me from doing that?"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, his expression hard. "If you had a genius working for you, would you want him to stop?"

Swallowing hard, he realized what John was saying. "You think someone with the ATA has gotten control of Rodney, and is doing whatever they can to make sure they keep it?"

Sheppard shrugged. "He does seem to know more than he's telling and it would explain some of his…strange actions as of late. I think he may have been trying to warn us in the meeting, saying it was too risky a mission for more than the obvious issues we might have encountered on the planet."

Sudden anger filled him. Someone was taking severe advantage of his friend, and right now, he was the only one who could stop it permanently. He did a quick assessment of his own condition, wincing slightly. "I need to get back to that planet to get that information and end this, but I din'na think I'll be up for it for a few days at least."

"I know." Sheppard's comment was quiet and serious. "I'm going to keep a guard at your door to make sure no one tries anything else. Lorne and I will be doing a little investigating on our own in the meantime. And we'll be keeping a little closer eye on Rodney whether he wants it or not."

"My notes and research. It's on my laptop, with a back up on the secure medical server, but if someone is trying to stop me, they might try to wipe both sets out. Can you have Radek take my machine off the network, and secure it somewhere? I din'na want to have to start from scratch if our villain gets desperate."

"That was the first thing we did. Your laptop was already wiped clean. I asked Doctor Z to create several backups of the server information and he's hidden it already."

"They wiped my laptop? When?"

John shrugged. "We're not sure. Some time before Zelenka looked at it."

Carson closed his eyes, trying to dredge up memory. "I think I accessed it right before. I was running experiments last minute. Pretty sure everything was there."

"They had plenty of time after the accident to go in and remove the data," Sheppard said. "Zelenka only started looking into it this morning."

"But it's been thirty-six hours? What happened in between?" Carson didn't try to hide his confusion.

'That you'll have to ask Rodney."

"Rodney? Why?"

"Let's just say that he wasn't as…helpful as I wanted him to be with this whole situation."

"But if all of this is because someone is using him, he probably can't help. He's probably been told to do just the opposite. Knowing Rodney, if what we suspect is true, it's probably driving him out of his mind trying to figure out ways around whatever orders he's been given."

"I don't know and if that's the case, I can't even ask him about it," Sheppard said, running a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh. "I'll get Doctor Z's report in a little while and I should know more then."

The morphine was beginning to make him feel more fuzzy, and he caught himself staring at how John's hair stuck up after he did that for several long heartbeats. "Right. Okay."

Sheppard's eyes rose upward and his mouth twitched. "I think it's time to let you get some rest. Feel better, Beckett. I'll be back to check in on you later." He rose, stretching a little before he ambled out of the infirmary.

It took Carson a minute to realize he was leaving. "Right. Bye then." Closing his eyes, he let the drugs sweep him away again.

***

It had been nearly two days since the…incident and Rodney was still shaking inside. He hadn't been able to face his friend and had resorted to emailing or calling Anne to ask for updates. She was starting to ask questions now, so his inquiries were getting less and less frequent.

Kramer had been suspiciously absent as of late which made him even more paranoid, wondering when the man was going to jump out from around the next corner. It was only a matter of time, Rodney knew, before he'd have to account for what he'd told him the other night. He just hoped it would be later rather than sooner.

Right now, he was trying to finish the reports he needed to go into the next data burst to the SGC in a few days. With everything that had been going on—including his severe lack of an attention span—it was taking longer than usual.

The scrape of boots against the floor made Rodney's head snap up, his wide eyes meeting Sheppard's, as the colonel leaned casually against the door frame. Sheppard was one of the ‘we're just visiting and we're not really guarding you’ guards. But their presence just made things worse as his guilt increased steadily and the memories of what he'd dreamed up—all the ways to kill and maim his friends—kept popping in his head.

Rodney turned back to is computer hoping the other man would get the ‘I'm busy working, leave me alone’ hint.

"When has ignoring me ever worked for you?" Sheppard drawled. "You know I'm not going to go away, so why prolong it?"

Rodney shrugged, but didn't answer.

Sheppard sauntered in and dropped down into Kramer's usual chair. "So, Anne mentioned that you haven't been by to check on Beckett once, but you've been calling her every few hours to check on him. What gives?"

Rodney shot him an annoyed look, before turning back to his computer. "Busy."

"Too busy to check on your friend, who was more than likely electrocuted to prevent him from helping you?" While still light, the colonel's tone had a note of steel behind it.

His head shot up again and he could feel the color draining from his face. "I…I don't know what you're talking about," he finally managed to spit out, feeling the constant quaking inside slowly start to rise to the surface. He shifted in his stool, concentrating on keeping his hands steady as he continued to work.

Sheppard was watching him closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That equipment wasn't capable of producing the charge it did on its own. Zelenka's final report was pretty clear about that."

"Did it? I didn't read it yet. On my list of things to do."

"Yeah, and considering the only thing Beckett's worked on for the last few weeks is your case, and coming on top of the previous...incidents...I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me. I have a feeling not, but I thought I would ask."

Rodney shook his head, keeping his eyes on the screen even though he was having problems actually reading what was on it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You're a horrible liar, McKay, not even an order to conceal something can change that."

Rodney sighed, glancing up at his friend. "I can't. Please…"

Sheppard stared at him for a long time before responding. "Whoever it is, we will catch them. Just do your best to hang in there, okay?"

"Have no choice, really," he finally muttered, turning his head away. There was no need for his friend to see the desperation he felt.

He heard movement, and suddenly Sheppard was crouched down next to him, one hand on his arm. "I know, and I'm sorry. Guards don't seem to have done much good, but Ronon, Teyla, Lorne, and I are keeping our eyes on you. You might not see us, but we're around. You're not alone. If you can find any way around whatever orders you're under to give us information, do it. It doesn't matter how small, anything helps."

Rodney shook his head roughly, closing his eyes so he didn't have to see the concern in his friend's face.

"I have Beckett under guard now, so don't worry about him. Once he's feeling up to it, we'll get the information he needs to fix this, and it will be over. Do what you have to do to stay alive and well. I know its not you, so don't worry about that."

He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head one again as he turned away from the colonel, trying to concentrate on the screen.

"Rodney. Look at me."

He turned, his damn programming giving him no choice in the matter. He gritted his teeth and set his jaw as he looked at the soldier next to him, narrowing eyes.

"It isn't your fault. You didn't ask for this, and someone is forcing you to do whatever it is they want against your will. We will catch this guy, this isn't a permanent thing."

"No, Colonel, I don't think you will," he finally said, the words quiet, strangled.

"We will. Have faith in us. We've gotten each other out of some pretty crazy situations in the past. Trust me to get you out of this one."

"I honestly don't see how."

"I have some ideas, but I think it's probably better if you don't know them. All you need to do is focus on staying with us and fighting as much as you can without getting hurt until we figure it out. Okay?"

Rodney sighed and shrugged. "Sometimes that's not really up to me."

Sheppard stood, squeezing his arm. "I know, and when I catch this person or persons, they are going to learn why it's not smart to piss me off by messing with my geek. Just try to stay out of trouble if you can, all right?"

"That's what I was trying to do when it all started."

"I beginning to think our team has a huge target painted over the top of us. None of the other teams seem to have the same problem staying out of trouble that we do."

Rodney huffed, his eyes still on the colonel. "Look, if you're done harassing me, can I at least try to get back to work?"

Sheppard let his arm drop. "Yeah, I just wanted to see how you're doing, and let you know Carson is going to be all right. He's past the critical point, and now Biro says it's mostly just letting him rest and recover."

"Good."

"If you need to talk, or just want company, feel free to come find me, or Carson, or hell, even Lorne. For some reason my XO has taken a liking to you."

"He's masochistic if you ask me."

"Nah, I think you just ruined him while he was on guard duty. I need to get the man his own geek to protect, then he'll back off a bit I'm sure."

"Can't you sic him on Zelenka?"

"Maybe. In the meantime, I have some things I need to take care of. Want to meet me for dinner in a few hours?"

"I was planning on working through. Too much to prepare for the next burst." He paused for a long moment. "And, unless you want me to follow you around, you may want to tell me that I can get back to work or something."

Looking startled, Sheppard ran a hand through his hair. "Crap. I keep forgetting about that. Yeah, you can go back to work any time. If you change your mind about dinner, let me know."

"Thanks," Rodney said, glancing back to his computer, feeling his face turn red.

He heard the soldier sigh, the sound of his footsteps faded away as he left.

Dinner came and went as he worked, the hours sliding quickly away. He'd called to check on Carson again, only to cut off Anne when she started asking questions. He'd also finally taken a look at the report Radek had turned in about the accident, impressed by the Czech's thoroughness and accuracy. Too bad he couldn't tell that the machine had been tampered with twice.

Dropping his empty dinner tray in the mess—the one Radek had dropped off when it was obvious Rodney wasn't moving from the labs—he finally headed for his room, the quiet hallways of Atlantis helping him to unwind. He took the long route, moving through the control room and jumper bay before heading down to the living quarters. Walking always helped to clear his mind and right now, that was exactly what he needed. He could feel someone hovering behind him—Lorne probably. Ronon and Teyla were far too good at tracking and tailing for Rodney to be able to sense them—unless of course they wanted him to know someone was there.

His door slid open and he walked inside, thinking the lights up several notches, but leaving the room in half-light. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and he didn't need much light for that.

"Welcome home, Rodney." the amused voice came from his bed.

"What?" he said, turning on his heel even as his mind recognized the voice, his body reacting faster than his own conscious thoughts as he dropped to his knees, the hard fall, jolting him quickly to reality. The door lock was loud in the silence.

Kramer didn't move from where he was lounging on the bed, lips curved into a smirk. "I was beginning to wonder if you were planning on staying out all night."

"I was working…walking, which is more than you seem to be doing these days."

"Why should I work when I have a genius I can order to do it for me?"

"Maybe because I won't always be at your beck and call."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong."

The door chime interrupted Kramer and he looked at Rodney in disgust. "Whoever it is, get rid of them, quickly. You are to tell them that everything is fine." The door chimed again and Kramer moved to the bathroom, leaving the light off as he stepped inside.

Rodney scrambled to his feet, unlocking and opening the door to reveal Major Lorne. McKay had been right.

"Hey. Sorry to bother you," he said, his eyes glancing around the room. "Wanted to make sure everything was okay before you headed to bed."

"Uh, yeah, fine. I was just getting ready for bed."

"Good. Want anything from the mess? I was going to swing past before I turned in myself."

"No, nothing. I have a PowerBar if I want a midnight snack."

"Okay. Then I'll see you in the morning," Lorne said, his eyes roaming through the room one last time before he waved goodnight. Rodney closed and locked the door, sighing in relief.

Kramer stepped out of the bathroom a moment later as Rodney was scrambling to get back in place. The scientist looked at the door for a long moment before moving back to the bed, sitting down.

"It seems that your guard dogs are a little more…resilient than I thought. We'll take care of that soon enough," Kramer said, finally turning his attention back to Rodney. He reached back and pulled a sickeningly familiar object out from the shadows behind the pillow.

"But now, I think it's time we had a little…chat. You have been a bit disobedient lately. I think we need to remind you who's in charge. Why don't you strip down to your boxers, get comfortable?"

"I'd rather not," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at the scientist, trying to hold his own fear at bay.

"That wasn't a request. Strip and kneel."

Rodney sighed, his hands already moving to pull the clothing from his body. "I'm already kneeling so saying it twice is redundant."

"You'll have to get up to take off your pants, and I didn't want there to be any confusion."

"You're not one to make that mistake," McKay commented as he rose to his feet, shucking his boots, socks, and pants before settling back down on the cold, hard floor, his knees already protesting. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Happy"?

"Put your arms down by your side, and come over next to the bed."

Rodney sighed, but complied, shifting across the floor until he was in the exact spot Kramer had indicated.

"Excellent. Now, clasp your hands behind your back, and leave them there until told otherwise."

Slowly he moved his hands, holding them in the small of his back. His breath was already beginning to come faster as his eyes flickered to the device Kramer had used the other night. "This what you had in mind?"

"To begin with. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise for later though. But I do like how you look like that. Consider this your new position whenever we're alone." He reached out, placing the device back in the center of Rodney's chest, where it immediately started to get hot.

McKay hissed, his body curling a little as if the movement would help to dislodge it, but Rodney knew better. He bit his lip, holding back the whimper and the scream.

With a flick, Kramer switched the device to its cold setting, watching for the reaction. "I must admit, for a man who so vocally hates pain, you've been doing quite a bit to court it lately."

"Just my…" He bit off a yell, sucking in a breath as he tried to breathe through the pain. "…charming….personality, I guess."

Kramer continued to flick the device back and forth between the settings for several minutes, watching for Rodney to break. "All you have to do to make this stop is beg you know. Make me believe you are sorry for the trouble you've caused me."

"What…if…I'm…not?" he asked, letting a scream break through as the sensations began to overwhelm him.

"Ah ah ah, no passing out. You stay coherent and awake until I'm done with you. We can keep this up until you find your repentance."

Several minutes passed, Rodney's only response a combination of whimpers, moans, and screams as he struggled to hang on to consciousness through the pain crashing through his body. A sobbed, "Please stop," finally came out as he lifted his head as much as he could bear even as his body tried to curl up away from the pain.

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes…very…just…make it stop."

"Now see, was that so hard?" Kramer reached out and removed the device. "Take a few moments to collect yourself, but remember, no passing out."

Rodney leaned against the bed, his head pressed into the blankets and mattress, taking large gulps of air as he tried to stop his body from trembling, his hands still clutching each other in the small of his back.

Kramer reached over and started petting his head again. "See, obedience has rewards. Give me what I ask and the pain stops."

"Get your…hands off of me," he muttered, the force he wanted behind the words long since gone.

"Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. Still fighting I see. I'm going to have to continue to punish you I suppose."

"Just leave me alone. I've done everything you asked."

"But not willingly. I don't like snippy slaves, which means you need to learn some manners. But perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way. I've been using pain, but perhaps pleasure would work better. What do you think? You had some very interesting ideas back when you were looking for ways to please me."

Rodney's head snapped up, his tearing eyes wide. "Nononononono…" He sat back on his heels, his body already moving away from the bed as his stomach clenched in fear.

"Stop. Come back here, Rodney. I didn't say you could move away."

"You didn't tell me not to," he said, the words shooting out of his mouth before he could bite back the reply.

Kramer just smiled at him. "Yes, I do believe we need to try something different. Pain just doesn't seem to be getting through to you."

He shook is head, watching as Kramer rose from the bed, walking around him. "It's working fine."

"You're still fighting me. I think you still believe your friends will find a way to help you. But you can I know better. They won't help you, can't help you. So, why don't we decide what to try next? Tell me again all the things you thought of. I'd like a refresher before making a decision."

He felt his face flush as the memories came back in all their glory, the words describing each action detailed and exact as he related each and every scenario, each and every encounter he'd come up with. Thanks to his over-active imagination and his open-mindedness about human sexuality, Kramer had way too many scenarios to pick from. McKay closed his eyes as if the lack of sight would make everything go away.

"Ah, such an imagination. Having a genius at my beck and call is proving to be quite entertaining."

Rodney flushed again, his cheeks hot, but he refused to be baited.

"I'll tell you what, Rodney, all those wonderful choices, I just can't decide. Why don't you pick your favorite?" Kramer sat back on the bed, lounging back a bit.

"None of the above," he finally gritted out.

"That's not an option. You brought this on yourself, remember."

"You asked for a favorite. I. Don't. Have. A. Favorite," he finally said, glaring at the man on his bed. "But I'm sure you have a favorite, several I imagine."

"Of course. We could try them all. I have faith in your stamina. Or you can choose one, and that will be all we try tonight. Up to you. Note how even when you are being punished, I give you some choice. I wouldn't want you to feel boxed in after all."

"Too late," he muttered.

Kramer's smile just turned feral. "Choose, Rodney. Let's get on with the more enjoyable part of the evening."

"I won't…can't…please don't do this…"

"Ah, begging won't get you anywhere now. You should have thought of that earlier when it was an option."

"No matter what I pick it's still rape because there's no way I'm consenting to anything."

"I'm not asking for consent, although you will enjoy it." The tone changed to that of a command.

Rodney bit back his instant reply, gritting his teeth together as he focused on the wall. "I don't like any of them and you asked me for a favorite. I have no favorite. I'm not trying to be difficult, but please, don't do this."

Kramer sighed. "Fine, then. Stand up and finish stripping, then come over here and put your hands behind your back. I will just have to do your thinking for you this evening."

McKay climbed slowly to his feet, his body still shaky as he drew his boxers off, dropping them to lie in a heap on the floor next to the rest of his clothes. He stopped by the bed, his hands moving back to where he'd held them before in the small of his back, waiting as Kramer stared at him.

"Yes, I do believe we are both going to enjoy this."

"I don't think so," Rodney whispered, closing his eyes briefly as Kramer's hand settled on his hip.

"You will, Rodney. That's an order." Kramer's eyes gleamed in the low light.

Rodney swallowed thickly as Kramer's hand tightened, his fingers digging in. McKay wished he was anywhere except here. Dead would actually be an improvement.

***

Carson stared at the ceiling. There was no more morphine, but another, much more mild painkiller was keeping him dulled enough not to feel the last twinges of pain, and alert enough to be sick of the ceiling.

Doctors really did make the worst patients.

Lindsay Biro had finally threatened him with the restraints when he had tried, for the third time that afternoon, to get out of bed and go back to work. None of his arguments had worked, so he was stuck here with nothing to do and bored to tears. He hadn’t even had any visitors since early this morning, when Elizabeth had stopped by. But he had still been coming down off the morphine, so it wasn’t really coherent conversation.

He heard footsteps coming closer, and assumed it was Doctor Biro. “I’m still here, still bored, and still want to be released.”

"Sorry, Doc," Evan Lorne said rounding the corner, "I can't help you with that."

He started up, turning so he could look at the soldier. He felt his cheeks redden slightly. "Sorry about that. Lindsay and I have been disagreeing about whether or not I should be discharged for most of the afternoon."

"Let me guess," he said pulling the chair closer before dropping into it. "You lost."

"She threatened restraints."

Evan's grin got wider as he tried to hide it behind his hand. "She's not used to dealing with the live ones, is she?"

Carson glared at him. "While I would ordinarily feel the need to defend my staff from remarks like that, she bloody well threatened to tie me down! She had the first one on my wrist before I gave in."

"Honestly, Doc, it's good to see that you're feeling better," he said, his expression turning serious.

Carson relaxed back into the bed. "Aye, still a bit of pain, but nothing serious. I don't really remember much of what happened, even now, but I'm told that's probably a good thing."

"It is," he replied quietly.

Looking closely, Carson tried to catch the edge of a memory. "You were there, weren't you?"

"I thought they said you didn't remember anything about the accident."

"Just snatches of things, and generally only when something triggers it. I seem to have lost most of that night. The last thing I remember clearly is starting the experiments and thinking I could grab some dinner while they ran. I just had a flash, though. Were you there? No one will really tell me much, and it is starting to drive me batty."

Evan glanced at his hands, his fingers lacing and unlacing. "I was there. I called the medical team. I saw the whole thing."

He watched the man fidget. "Have you had a chance to talk about it to anyone? Given what I know of electrocution, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant to watch, and keeping it inside is'na really good for you."

He shrugged, shifting in the chair. "Seen worse, actually."

"What's bothering you? If I can help, I will."

"I'm not sure, exactly. Maybe it's the deliberately cruel nature of the whole thing." He shrugged again, but glanced up. "I'm just really glad you're okay, Doc."

"Aye, I've been trying hard not to think of that aspect of it myself. Which is why I really need to get back to work. The sooner I can reverse Rodney's DNA, the sooner we can end this." He looked over the soldier speculatively. "I don't suppose you'd help me get out of here for a bit? I know damn well you've helped the colonel before, so you're obviously good at it."

"I don’t think so. I value my needle-mark-free ass too much."

"I'll give you a get-out-of-exam free card."

"Sorry, Doc, but right now she wins. And she's scary. The whole plays-with-dead-people thing gives her a leg up."

Carson just stared at him. "You'll help Sheppard get out when I'm in charge, but you won't help me when my second in command is in charge? I'm not scary enough for you?"

"So," Evan said, quickly changing the topic, "what does McKay have to say for himself?"

He glared for a moment, the slumped back again. "I've no idea. I haven't seen Rodney since the meeting the other day. Anne mentioned he had called down to see how I was doing, but he has'na been down here to visit at all."

"He hasn't?" Evan looked shocked, his eyebrows drawing close together. "What do you mean he hadn't been down to see you? Maybe he was here when you were sleeping."

Shrugging, Carson tried not to let his hurt show. "If he had, one of the nurses would have told me when I asked about him."

"That's…odd, even for McKay."

"He's had a rough time of it lately. It...I'm not entirely surprised he does'na want to see me."

"Actually, he was acting strangely when I saw him last. Hold onto that thought," Evan said, taping his radio. "Lorne to Zelenka." He paused, waiting for the scientist to answer. "Hey Doc, you seen McKay this morning? Okay. Right. No, that's okay. Thanks." He signed off, his forehead even more furrowed than before.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Doctor Z says he hasn't been to the labs yet today."

"That's not like him at all." He stared at the back wall, the worry replacing everything else. "I need to check on him." Pushing aside the sheet, he was on his feet before Lorne could respond.

Evan grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to stop. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He shook his arm, trying to get the man to let go. "Shush! If you aren't going to help me, at least keep quiet and let me go. I can't stay here any longer—I have work to do, and I need to check on Rodney. What if something else happened to him?"

"I can check on him easily enough. I did his bed check last night," Lorne said, levering the doctor back into the bed until he was sitting on the edge. "Please don't make me call Biro."

"You wouldn't!" Glaring at him, Carson tried to squirm out of the hold on his arm. "Just let me go. Please."

"I would," Evan replied, holding him firmly. "And I can't let you go. Do you actually like getting visitors? Biro can cut off all your privileges if you push her."

"She does'na have to know, and why are you doing this? I think I know enough about medicine to know when I'm okay to leave."

"What doesn't she have to know," came the familiar drawl near the foot of the bed.

"Bloody everlasting hell. I could have been gone if you had'na stopped me." He accused the soldier next to him.

"Beckett, Lorne," Sheppard continued, glancing between the two of them, "what's going on here?"

"I'm trying to leave! I just want to go back to work." He turned to Sheppard. "You'll help me, won't you lad?"

The colonel shook his head. "I don't think so. Lorne, what's happening that has the good doctor all riled up?"

Carson didn't give him a chance to reply. "I'm bored, I have work to do, and I am leaving." He finally got his arm free, and managed to take a few steps away from the bed.

Sheppard stepped in front of him, his hands on each shoulder. "I don't think so. Lorne, call Biro."

"No! Please! I really don't want to be tied to the bloody bed. Just let me leave." He tried to move around the now two men blocking his path.

"If you don't listen to us, Biro will tie you to the bed," Sheppard hissed.

"Which is why I need to be gone before she gets here!"

"And then when she finds you, you'll be strapped to the bed and in solitary. Is that what you want?"

Carson sagged. "I just want to check on Rodney and go back to work. I'm fine, why won't you help me?"

"Rodney was fine last night. Lorne said he headed into bed pretty early for McKay. Right, Major? What's the rush now?"

Lorne nodded in response.

"No one has seen him yet today. Evan called the labs and he has'na come in yet. Not to mention, he never came down here to see me, and that's highly unusual for him, even with his current irritation at me. I just need to make sure he's okay, and then I need to get finish the therapy and get him back to normal. Please."

"First, you need to get better, which will still take a few days. Lorne, here, will go check on our wayward scientist who is probably just working in his quarters. It's still early. He might have slept late. Okay?"

Beckett shook his head, starting to feel desperate. "I can'na stay here any longer. I'm going out of my mind staring at the ceiling. I'm fine now."

"No, you're not," Sheppard replied even as Lorne slipped out, moving Beckett back to the bed, this time settling him on it more firmly. "Working like this will only make things worse."

Carson fought briefly, but the stronger, less drugged man managed to keep him from breaking free. He finally let his body slump back in defeat. "I bloody hate this."

Sheppard sighed. "So do I, Doc. So do I."

"At least find me something to do. I can'na—when I sit for too long with nothing to do I can't help but think, and right now there's too much I don'na want to think about. At least give me something distracting."

"I can find you a laptop. I'll get Zelenka to load your research on it. How about that?"

"Thank you." He hoped Sheppard didn't catch too much of the need in his voice. "That will work beautifully."

"So, until Lorne comes back with McKay in tow—which I know he will—what did you want to talk about?"

Carson settled back, giving the soldier a wry grin. "How about you tell me how you and Rodney manage to slip out of here undetected right under my nose, but I can'na get two feet from the bed when I try?"

***

Rodney woke slowly, his consciousness reluctant to rise to the surface. Not that he blamed it. After last night…

He gagged, choking back the bile that rose in his throat as he stumbled to alertness.

He was still in bed, naked, the sheet and blankets roughly pulled up to cover him. Sex hung in the air—dripping from the ceiling, down the walls, the taste in his mouth.

Groaning into his pillow he moved carefully, his body aching and sore. Rodney knew he should move, but he couldn't bear to face the day, let alone his own face in the mirror.

The door chime shattered what little silence he had. He shifted again, moaning a little, wishing that whoever it was would just go away.

Until a minute later, the chime rang again and the door slid open.

"Jesus Christ. McKay!" Major Lorne was dropping down next to him, shock all over his face, although he didn't reach out or try to touch him. "I am going to fucking kill this bastard."

"Just go, please," he whispered into the pillow.

Lorne was silent for a moment. "I'll be waiting for you outside. Take your time. If you want to go to the infirmary, fine. If not, that's fine too."

"I really need to shower."

"Take your time." He heard the man rise and head to the door. "I'll make sure no one else comes in to bother you until you're ready."

Rodney choked back a laugh. Too late for that. Way too late.

"Doc? Rodney? I'm not leaving your side until you force me to. I won't let anyone else touch you." Lorne stepped out and let the door close without waiting for a reply.

It took Rodney a while to finally crawl out of bed and into the shower where he spent a long time under the water trying to get clean, to make himself feel clean. He dragged himself out, drying quickly, carefully, before wrapping the towel around his waist and applying what little energy he had to brushing his teeth, several times.

Stumbling back into the room, the scent assaulting him immediately, his eyes were drawn to the bed and the dark brown spots on the sheets. No wonder he hurt.

He pulled on clean boxers and a uniform, sitting carefully to put on socks and shoes before he turned back to the bed, stripping it to the bare mattress, rolling the soiled sheets in a ball and dropping them next to the door. He'd wash them later. Right now he needed coffee and something to eat—if he could hold it down.

Lorne was leaning against the wall when the door opened. "Hey."

"You're still here." Honestly, he was surprised the soldier had stayed behind.

"I told you I would be." Lorne fell into step beside him. "You know you should go to the infirmary."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. And if you don't get checked out, it could be worse later." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "It happened to a friend of mine once. Believe me, you need to be looked at."

Rodney felt his cheeks flush. "I said, I'm fine."

"I'm going to kill him." Lorne's voice was flat and dangerous.

"No, you're not." The words were quiet, laced with a pain Rodney didn't even understand as they moved slowly through the corridors.

"If I don't, Sheppard will. And you really do need to get looked at. I sat through the med classes that dealt with this. If it gets infected, it will be much worse. Let Beckett look at you."

"I don't need anything 'looked at'."

"You can barely walk."

"So, I'm sore. What's the big deal?" A hand on his elbow stopped him from walking into the wall, but also made him jerk away from the touch.

Lorne immediately dropped his hand, but continued walking next to him as they neared the transporter. "Don't insult my intelligence, Doc. I know you don't want to talk about it, and my guess is you're under orders not to, but let's not pretend I don't know what happened." He reached up to push the destination button once they were inside.

"I'm not having this conversation," he said, turning away from the other man, his arms crossed over his chest.

"It wasn't your fault."

"You don't know that," he answered, stepping out of the transporter when the doors opened, Lorne following close behind, nearly stuck to him.

"Yes, I do."

"No, no you don't," McKay replied, only to pause mid-stride as he stepped into the infirmary. "Wait a minute. How'd we get here?" He rounded on the other man. "You tricked me."

"I'm just along for the walk, Doc. I hit a button, yeah, but you walked here on your own." He moved to block the way out, standing solidly in the door. "Doc Beckett is in the enclosed section in the back. I'd suggest going to see him, or I can call Biro, but I know you'd prefer Beckett."

"I will do no such thing. Now, move."

"No. The fact that you came here without realizing it tells me you know on some level that I'm right." Lorne looked up, and straightened. "Sir."

"You're going to get out of my way and I’m going to walk out of here, Major," Rodney said, ignoring the other man. He knew Sheppard was getting closer, he could hear him, smell his aftershave. It was the same scent as…

He felt himself pale.

He didn't realize he was backing away from Sheppard until his back hit a wall.

"Rodney." Sheppard stopped a few feet away, shock and anger all over his face. "No one here is going to hurt you. Why don't you and I go back to see Beckett where we'll have a bit of privacy. Okay?"

He shook his head, his eyes wide. "Just leave me alone."

Sheppard put both hands out in front of himself, where Rodney could see them, although he didn't move away. "I'm not going to come any closer unless you say its okay, but I'm not going away either."

"Just go away," he said, trembling a little, feeling himself start to slide down the wall.

Sheppard twitched like he wanted to move to help, but he stayed where he was, sinking down to sit on his heels as Rodney hit the floor. "Let us help you."

"Just go away. Leave me alone," McKay whispered the words, pleading, begging like he did last night.

"You're going into shock. You need to let Beckett look at you. If I call him over, will you let him get near you?"

Rodney didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, his mind still trapped in the nightmare he'd experienced firsthand. His chest unclenched as Sheppard backed away. He closed his eyes, dropping his head onto his upraised knees, trying to breathe. A light touch on his arm startled him, his head snapping up as he stared into a set of concerned blue eyes.

Carson dropped his hand, but sat on the floor next to him. "Breathe, lad. Just take your time."

McKay tried to take a breath, but it caught in his throat and came out more like a sob. The first was quickly followed by another. Rodney lifted his hands, covering his face, hating the moisture he felt.

Leaning to the side, Beckett was strong and warm along his arm. McKay turned into his friend, hiding his face against Carson's chest. An arm cautiously came up to hold his shoulders and he slumped further, letting his friend hold him up. Right now, that was all he could do.

***

Carson sat heavily into a chair, letting his head fall into his hands. Rodney was out cold, he had begged to be sedated, and Carson hadn’t had the heart to refuse. McKay was resting as comfortably as possible in a nearby bed, where Carson would be able to hear him if he started to stir.

He was going to have to write up a report on this, and Beckett dreaded it. Dreaded even having to sit down and tell Elizabeth and Sheppard what he found. That was not going to be an easy conversation.

After a few minutes, he finally lifted his head, surprised to see his hands were shaking. A quick mental checklist, and he realized the pain medications he had been given earlier were starting to wear off. It wasn’t bad enough to stop him from working, but it was noticeable.

Standing, he made his way over to his own bed, grabbing his laptop as he went so he could work while keeping an ear and eye on Rodney. Opening it up, he started a new report, but found himself simply staring at it blankly. He didn’t even know where to start.

A shuffle caught his attention, and he looked up to see John Sheppard coming closer, his face closed and hard. “He’s sleeping.”

"Good," he said, nodding. "Lorne is bagging and bringing down whatever he can find from his room. Someone needs to go over it."

"Aye. I'll have it sent down to the lab for a full analysis."

"I'd like to keep this among as few people as possible," the soldier said, moving slowly to the chair between the two beds, his gaze lingering on McKay before he turned back to Carson.

"I agree. The technicians are very skilled and they know to be discreet. Medical information is never talked about or used as gossip fodder. You don't have to worry about that."

"I know. It's just that he's been through enough already." Sheppard sighed, running a hand over his face. "I have Radek going through the security footage on the chance that the cameras caught something…someone." He paused, clearing his throat. "How are you doing?"

"Let me know if Radek finds anything. It will take at least until tonight for the lab to have a full work-up done, and isolate what matches Rodney's DNA from anyone else's, and then to do a search against the database for a match. As soon as I have anything, I'll brief you and Elizabeth."

"I understand," he said, nodding. "Unfortunately, I've been through a few of these kinds of cases in my career. I know how it works. Part of me wishes that Lorne had been a little more…"

Looking up, Carson caught his eye. "A little more what? He did good, bringing him here and managing to do it without spooking him too badly. If Rodney had broken down anywhere else, it would have been much harder on him."

"Aware of procedures, I guess. As much as I agree with how he did things, the other part of me wants to make sure we can nail this…I don't want to have any issues later on when it comes to the court martial or the trial, whatever it is."

"You honestly think there will be problems?" Shock ran through him, numbing everything a bit.

"I've seen it happen before."

"This is an unusual case though. And this is'na the first time Rodney has been assaulted, although given his reaction this is the first time it wasn't a beating he took." He curled his fists into balls, not sure if he wanted to hit something or someone. "How soon can you get our mission back on the roster? I need to finish this gene therapy as soon as possible. We can't risk something else happening to him, and once he's free he can tell us himself what's been going on."

"We need to wait until Biro clears you, which is probably in a few days."

"It won't take that long. Things have changed, and if necessary I'll exercise my authority and clear myself sooner."

"We'll see," Sheppard said. "But right now, I don't think McKay's going anywhere anytime soon and I have no intention of letting him go anywhere on his own."

"Good. I'll be here for the immediate future as well keeping an eye on him. When he starts to wake up, I want to make sure he knows he's not alone. We're going to have to be very careful though. I've no idea what set him off before—it could have been anything from a movement to a smell or a facial expression."

"Yeah," Sheppard said, his expression tightening. "And it was something to do with me if his reaction was any indication."

Carson gave him a sympathetic look. "Not you, but more likely something about you that reminded him of his attacker. Don't take it personally. When he wakes up, I'll see if he can tell me what it was so at least you'll know."

He shrugged, his gaze turning back to the slumbering scientist. "How did we miss this? We were watching him, trying to prevent something from happening."

"This is the first time…this happened. We thought we caught the person responsible for beating him, so there was no reason to think it was still going on, or that it would get to this level."

"How do we know that, really? This could just be the first time it escalated this far."

"Aye, that's true, but this is the first time he was abused to this degree, and other than bruising that indicates he probably took a bit more in the way of beating, I found nothing to indicate he had been used like this before last night."

"Some things don't leave a mark, Doc."

"No, but he would'na have been able to hide his reaction afterwards, any more than he was able to this morning. The bastard who did this was trying to break him and nearly succeeded. But, thinking back on how Rodney has been acting, I can only say that it's my opinion—based on years of seeing abuse patients—that this was probably the first time it went this direction."

"Thank God for small favors, eh?" Sheppard said, the bitterness heavy in his tone.

"It's not your fault, Colonel. You couldn't have predicted this would happen, and you thought you caught the person responsible days ago. And you did have guards on him—an informal arrangement, yes—but they were there."

"But that also means that we might be looking for more than one more person. I won't be caught flatfooted again. How the hell does this happen?"

"I wish I could answer that. We obviously have someone on base who is taking extreme advantage of a bad situation, and I didn't think anyone who could do something like that was stationed here." He leaned back, closing the computer that was still open on his lap and setting it aside.

"You're done with your report already?"

"I have'na started yet. I just...I'll do it in a bit."

"Oh," he said, understanding flickering across his face. "Bad?"

"Yes."

"Damn," he said, looking away, his hands clenching and unclenching. He rose quickly a moment later. "I need to check on a few things, but I'm leaving a guard at the door. You know Edwards, right?"

"Aye, but why not Lorne? If you can't be here, I know Rodney will be more comfortable with him, and you said yourself we want to keep as few people involved as possible."

"Lorne is working on a few things for me, but he'll be here later. Edwards was actually here when McKay came in."

"Was he? I did'na pay much attention I must admit."

"If you didn’t realize he was here, then he was doing his job. If you need anything from me—and I mean anything—call me. Understood?"

Carson nodded. "I'll let you know as soon as I have any additional information. And the report will be done," he paused, closing his eyes briefly, "I'll have something for you by the end of the day at least."

The muscles in Sheppard's jaw tightened as he nodded once, briskly. "I know Elizabeth is waiting on it."

"I know. I'll do what I can."

"I know you will." Sheppard paused at the door to the small room, his gaze settling on McKay for a long moment before he turned abruptly and headed into the main section of the infirmary and out of sight.

Carson sat and watched his friend sleep for a while, happy that at least in a drugged unconsciousness he could find a little peace. Finally, with a sigh, Beckett opened up the laptop again. He let his fingers rest on the keys before forcing them to work, putting aside his emotions and reducing his friend's pain to simple, medical terms. There were days he hated his job.

***

Consciousness came slowly, marked by the whoosh of the overhead air ducts and the light snore from somewhere in the room.

Rodney's chest clenched as his eyes flew open, searching the small room until his gaze fell on Beckett, fast asleep in the bed next to him.

Oh, thank God.

Forcing himself to relax into the mattress, he groaned a little, his body still sore and aching, a chill running through him as he tried to pull the sheets and blankets higher. He eyed the blanket on Carson's bed and for a brief moment thought about swiping it, but thought better of it, instead trying to tuck himself deeper into his own bed.

He could remember every last detail of that night in perfect clarity, as if the memories were burned into his mind. By the time morning rolled around, he would have agreed to anything for it to stop.

And he had—agreed, that is. Quickly, easily, eagerly.

But what did it say about him? And why him? It was his mind that had come up with the situations, so was this something he actually wanted? Could this been his mind's way of telling him something, or demanding it? And he had…enjoyed it—much to his extreme embarrassment. That shouldn't have happened. Not to him.

A whimper caught in his throat and he curled a little more tightly into a ball, trying to get his emotions under control.

A few moments later, he rolled over, peeking out from under the covers. Squinting at his wristwatch, placed on its side on the bedside table, he saw he had thirty-six hours to complete his task or else something else would happen. Kramer hadn't been specific as to what the consequences would be, but Rodney didn't intend on finding out.

The snoring abruptly stopped, and Carson sat up, blinking. He looked over and smiled hesitantly. "Rodney, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, his eyes dropping so he didn't have to look at the other man. He could feel his cheeks flushing at the memory of his breakdown in the infirmary and the subsequent exam.

He heard shuffling, and then sensed Carson standing near the bed, although the other man didn't touch him. "It was'na your fault. I don'na care what you were told or what that piece of shit tried to make you believe. It was'na your fault."

"It's bad, isn't it?" Rodney finally asked, the question hesitant, but he already knew the answer.

Sighing, Carson sat down in the chair near the bed. "Moderately bad, yes. You had some serious tearing and internal bruising. After we put you under, I went and stitched a few places. When I release you, I'll give you a cream you'll need to apply to keep it from getting infected, and you'll be sore for a while. Major Lorne did the right thing in getting you straight here. The possibility of you doing yourself further injury at this point is a real one. You should take it easy for the next few days at least."

"I don't foresee that as a problem."

"Good. We can keep each other company. You can talk to me—or not—about what happened if you want to. I'll understand if you don't though."

Rodney had felt himself pale when Carson had suggested talking about it, about that whole…incident, series of incidents. He shook his head roughly, his eyes closed tightly together.

"I had a feeling not, at least not right now. The offer stands though, if you need to talk later." He paused. "Can you at least tell me what we can do to not remind you? I know something about John triggered a memory earlier. He does'na want to do anything to hurt or remind you again."

He relaxed a little, happy that Carson wasn't going to press. Thinking back, he opened his eyes, meeting his friend's concerned ones. "Smell…aftershave I think."

Carson nodded. "I'll tell him not to wear it."

"Going to put a dent in his masculinity, I imagine," he whispered, trying to pull the blankets up a little more.

"I don'na think he'll mind. Are you cold? You're shivering."

Rodney nodded. "Yeah. I think that's what woke me."

Carson leaned over and snagged the blanket off the end of his bed, standing to drape if over him. "Better?"

He nodded, pushing himself deeper into the covers, wishing for once that his usual hot body temperature was working correctly. A few minutes passed before he felt the worse of the shivers fade away and he glanced up, looking as Carson watched him, seeing his friend's pain, weariness, and concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Feeling better now? If not, we have actual warming blankets. I can have one of the nurses get one for you."

He shrugged. "I don't know why I'm so cold."

Carson caught the eye of one of the passing nurses, and she left to get the additional blankets. "You're still experiencing a bit of shock, which has a tendency to drop the body temperature. We'll get you warmed back up though, don'na worry."

Rodney nodded. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor, the silence thick between them.

"Whatever for? Rodney, none of this is your fault. Please don'na feel guilty for things you had no control over. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not getting this fixed faster. If I could just finish it, you would'na be in this position. So don'na apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

He shook his head, but held his tongue. There really wasn't anything more he could say even if he wanted to.

The nurse came back over, plugging a cord in somewhere and draping another blanket over him that radiated heat. "Thanks, luv," Carson told her quietly.

Sweet blessed warmth.

"I'm thinking I need to have Anne bring by a bit of lunch. Are you hungry? I can have her get something for you too."

Rodney opened an eye, peering up at his friend, not even realizing it was closed. He shrugged, the gesture mostly hidden because of the mound of cloth piled on him. "I guess."

"Just stay there then and get warm. I'll have her bring something easy to eat without moving too much so you can stay comfortable."

"Thanks," he mumbled. It took another minute before he realized that Beckett had never answered his earlier question. "Carson?"

He finished talking to Anne, then turned back. "Aye?"

He opened both eyes for this and propped himself up a little more on the bed, wincing as muscles pulled. "How are you doing?"

"Stop moving around if it hurts. Just try to get comfortable. And what do you mean?"

"I'm trying to get comfortable," he grumbled. "I…heard about you. You were dead."

"Not dead, as you can plainly see." Carson sighed a bit, watching him closely. "If you must know, there's still a bit of lingering pain, and I have'na been cleared for duty yet, with you as the exception. If they would let me go back to work, things would be just fine."

"I should have visited," he finally said. "But I…couldn't."

He shrugged. "Anne told me you called pretty regularly to check on my progress."

"That's not the same."

"You've got a lot to deal with right now, and I know that. Don't worry about me."

Rodney huffed, huddling a little deeper into the blankets, but making sure his head was free.

"And you're welcome to stay as long as you need to."

"Too much to do."

"Once you're feeling up to it, I can have someone bring your laptop."

"Soon," he said, feeling himself drift a little, the warmth making him sleepy once again.

Carson smiled. "Whenever you're ready. But right now, I think maybe you need to sleep. You look like you could use it."

"Hmm," he hummed, letting himself drift. He felt the light touch of Carson's hand on his shoulder and sighed, thankful his body didn't jump in response. It stayed there, a constant pressure until he finally fell asleep.

***

Carson glared at his second in command and fought the urge to raise his voice. Rodney was asleep in the next bed, and he didn’t want to wake him.

“What do you mean you won’t clear me yet? I’m fine Lindsay. Let me go back to work,” he hissed.

"You're still weak. You tire easily. I will not have you collapsing at your desk. The answer is no."

"I'll take it easy, but I have things I need to see to. If you really want me to, I'll come check in with you a few times today, but I want to go back to work."

"And I believe the answer is still no. You have your laptop, which is more than I should allow," she replied, her arms crossed over her chest, the corner of her mouth twitching.

He growled quietly. "Stop enjoying this so much."

"Now you know how the rest of your patients feel when they demand things," she commented, offering a tired smile. "I do agree with your rule, by the way. In this place, our patients need all the peace and quiet they can get because this universe won't give it to them anywhere else."

He slumped back. "Aye, which is why it's a rule. I never said I was a good patient though. And I generally find things to distract them once they start to get restless—I don't leave them to stare at the ceiling and twitter."

"That much is true," she replied, this time not holding back her chuckle. "Maybe tomorrow if you take it easy today." She paused again, her eyes sliding over to the slumbering physicist. "How's he doing? Did he sleep last night?"

Carson sighed. "He did, although he had the beginnings of a few nightmares. I heard him whimpering a bit and managed to get him soothed without waking him up."

She nodded once, tightly. "Figured as much. You still going to let him work today?"

"Aye, if he wants to. I'd like to keep him here, but medically there's no reason to if he wants to leave. I know we'd all be much happier if he worked from here where I can keep an eye on him, but I honestly don't know if he'll go for that or not."

"Didn't Sheppard mention something about a guard?"

"I'd be surprised if there wasn't a Marine hanging around our front door. But I don't know about a personal guard once he leaves. When the colonel comes by later I'll ask him."

"Oh, there's several," she said, glancing out the door. "Right now I only see one, but I know there're a few others floating around."

He blinked. "That many? Huh."

"The colonel was…angry."

"He's not the only one. It's probably a good thing I don't know who did this yet, otherwise you would'na be able to keep me here—medical orders or no."

"I've heard similar sentiments from most people," she said, her face serious. "Which reminds me, the labs said they'd have a final report for you soon. If you want I can go and track it down."

"Yes, please. I'd appreciate it. Elizabeth and Colonel Sheppard weren't too happy with my initial report yesterday, and I know they're waiting for the rest of the information."

"Not happy?" She shook her head. "I don't think anyone was happy about the entire situation, let alone the report. I see the colonel now, so let me grab that file for you."

"Thanks, luv. I really do appreciate it. I know I've not been easy to deal with, and I'm sorry for that. I just need to get this problem solved before Rodney gets hurt again. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Lots of chocolate, Carson, and time off," she said, throwing the words over her shoulder as she walked away.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow as he stopped in the doorway. "Do I want to know?"

"Just making sure my staff is still speaking to me once I'm not a patient they're required to be nice to." He smiled briefly before turning serious. "Any news?"

Sheppard shook his head, his eyes sliding to McKay for a moment. "Not much. It seems that the security cameras were tampered with in the hall outside his quarters. There's two blips: one around 2100 and the other at 0600 the next morning."

"That's a long stretch of time." He trailed off for a moment, letting his own eyes rest on the sleeping scientist. "Lindsay just went to get the final report from the technicians for me."

"No kidding. McKay wandered in around 2500 which coincidences with Lorne's report. And when the major did the bed check he didn't see anything. I’m guessing whoever was there managed to stay in the shadows or hid somewhere. Lorne admits to not checking the bathroom. But that still leaves eight hours."

"I don't know why, but knowing that was waiting for him when he got home makes it all worse somehow. Home is supposed to be the one place you can go where worries and fears don't follow."

"I know," he said, sighing roughly, peeking his head out of the door when he heard footsteps. Biro came into view a moment later.

"Hot off the presses," she said handing over the file, which the colonel snagged first.

"Excuse me! Colonel, I know you're eager, but that's still a patient file, and still confidential. Hand it over." He struggled to keep his voice low.

"Actually, this is an evidence file and as the investigating officer, I have full rights to it," Sheppard said, flipping through the pages as his face hardened. "This is just…great."

"What? Give me the damn file Sheppard so I can read it myself."

He handed it over, pushing past Biro in to the main ward. "Whoever did this doesn't exist."

"Wait! Colonel! Where are you going?" Carson quickly flipped through the report, his heart sinking when he saw the words 'no known match' listed in several places. "But how can this be? It is a confirmed ATA carrier, natural, but we don't know who it is? Everyone is required to file a full genetic make-up before they get assigned here..."

"Someone screwed with the files," Sheppard growled, swinging back around.

He sank into the bed, skimming the rest of the report. "My technicians checked, and we have confirmed files on every member of the expedition—nothing appears to have been tampered with. Bloody hell, this is more than just an opportunist to have planned this far in advance."

"This is a deliberate violation of Atlantis security."

"And there's no way it could only be one person. At the very least they would need someone back in the SGC. That's where everyone's records are checked and the final tests done before they're cleared to come here."

"It's probably more than one person at both locations, which means we could be looking for a group here in Atlantis." Sheppard shook his head. "And our prime witness can't say a word about it."

"Damn it." He looked up at Doctor Biro, who was still standing there listening. "Lindsay, I need to be cleared to work now. I understand it's not in my own best interest, but we're talking about Atlantis security now. We need Rodney's information, and we can't get it until I finish the gene therapy."

"I can't clear you in good conscience until tomorrow," she said, her tone pained. "You're still not well enough, no matter how much you want to be. And off-world missions are absolutely off the list. I'm sorry."

He let out a note of frustration, and knew his accent was getting thicker as he tried to control his temper. "This is'na about me, lass. It's not even entirely about Rodney. Right now I need to do my job, otherwise the bastards who tried to kill me to get me out of the way are getting exactly what they wanted. You can be damn sure they know that if Rodney is allowed to speak, the whole game is over, and right now I'm the only thing standing in the way of that. Let me go back to work."

"Carson?" A sleepy question interrupting their discussion.

He was up and out of bed, leaning down where Rodney could see him before anyone else could react. "I'm here. Sorry we woke you."

"You are so loud," he grumbled, pushing himself up. His eyes widened when he took in the group of people standing in the room. "Oh."

Carson followed his gaze, then let his own harden. "Everyone out please. I'll let you back in a moment if Rodney is okay with it."

Sheppard and Biro exchanged a look, but moved out leaving Carson alone with Rodney.

He watched them leave and then sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Better? You looked a bit spooked."

Rodney's response was quiet, timid. "Just didn't expect a crowd."

"I figured, which is why I sent them away. When and if you're ready for company, let me know and I'll let them come back. How are you feeling?"

Rodney shrugged. "Okay. Little sore. Hungry."

He moved over to the table and pulled the cover off a tray sitting there. "One of the nurses brought breakfast while you were sleeping and left it here for you. If you sit up, I'll put it where you can get it."

He moved, wincing a little, but managed to get upright without help. He scowled at Beckett. "I'm not an invalid."

"Do you really want to try and reach the tray from the bed? I'm not moving it because you're an invalid; I'm moving it because it's easier to eat that way. Did it myself a little while ago."

"Just…" he broke off, crossing his arms. "Do whatever you want."

Carson moved the tray, the sat down, refusing to admit how tired that little bit of movement had made him. "Don't make me try to guess what you're thinking, please. If you have something you want to tell me, you can just come out and say it. You won't hurt my feelings. You woke up looking like a deer in the headlights about two seconds away from bolting. What do you want me to do?"

"I said I was just startled, all right? I didn't expect for everyone to be standing in here having a discussion. Let me guess: I was the subject."

"Only partially. It was more an argument over whether or not Doctor Biro will clear me for duty. That's why it got a little loud."

"And?"

"You woke up before the discussion was over."

"Well, excuse me for interrupting. I'll just eat my breakfast in peace and you can go and harass other patients with your yelling, then." Rodney turned to the food, reaching out to snag the muffin with a trembling hand.

"You weren't interrupting. If anything, it was a welcome break. I was starting to get irritated."

Rodney huffed into his breakfast, taking a large bite and chewing before he continued. "I'm free to go, right?"

Carson hesitated, watching him eat for a few minutes before he responded. "Aye, I have no reason to keep you here, although you are more than welcome to stay as long as you want. If you want, you can work from here on your laptop."

He shook his head. "I have things I need to finish in my lab for the data burst tomorrow. Several reports Weir still needs to see, too."

Carson considered his options, but watching his friend, he knew letting him go about his day more or less as usual was probably the best thing for him, mentally. The fact that it opened him up to more danger made his stomach clench, but he couldn't keep Rodney packed in bubble wrap and stashed in a closet—appealing as the thought was. He finally sighed. "I know. But know you're welcome to come stop by any time, you won't be bothering me or anyone else."

"Fine," he said, shoving half of the muffin back on the tray and pushing the mound of covers back so he could swing his legs over the side of the bed. "Can I go?"

"I'd like you to eat a bit more. I don't think we want to add a hypoglycemic reaction to everything else."

Rodney huffed, turning pleading eyes to his friend. "I've eaten enough for now and I really want to get in the shower and get moving. Please, Carson. I'll grab something on the way to the labs."

Carson felt himself cracking under that look. With a sigh, he gestured at the muffin. "Can you at least finish that?"

"I honestly don’t think that's a good idea," he finally said, his eyes dropping.

"Rodney... Just…can you promise me you'll come back here later today to check in?"

"I'll do my best. Really." He paused, absently scratching an itch on the back of his hand. "I can't really promise anything, but I will try."

Carson watched his friend fidget. "You do know you can do the reports just as easily here as you can in the lab, right? And I'd welcome the distraction, since otherwise I'm going to get into a fight with my second in command."

"I can't. I need the resources in the lab. Just…let me do my job."

Considering that was almost the exact same argument Carson was pushing for himself, he couldn't bring himself to deny Rodney. At least one of them could try and get something accomplished. And Rodney needed to feel normal. "I doubt the colonel will let you go without a guard, but you can take that up with him. You're free to go whenever you want."

Rodney nodded once, gratitude in his eyes as he slid gingerly off the bed, his bare feet sliding a little on the floor as he headed to the infirmary bathroom.

Carson watched him go, and then leaned back in the chair. He glanced over at the open door and pitched his voice loud enough to carry. "You can come back in if you're still out there."

Lorne poked his head around the doorframe. "Actually, it's just me, Doc."

Raising one eyebrow, he gestured the man inside. "I'm surprised the colonel did'na stick around."

"He said he had something to do," Evan shrugged stepping inside. "I'm supposed to wait for McKay."

"He's going back to work in the labs. I'd imagine you're going to have a fight about guard duty on your hand, but physically he's cleared for light duty. Make sure he eats."

"Actually, he saw me when he headed toward the showers and just shrugged. I think a guard is expected at this point."

Nodding, Carson picked up the half-eaten muffin and began to pick at it absently. "Is Doctor Biro still out there?"

"She wasn't in the immediate vicinity, but Edwards is at the door." Evan lowered his voice. "I don’t think you want to cross him today."

"Edwards? Why would I cross him? Isn't he here to make sure no one bothers Rodney?"

"Today, he's on your roster. Rodney's stuck with me."

"My...what is that supposed to mean?" Carson dropped the decimated muffin and stood up.

"Sheppard's not taking any chances right now. Radek has his own shadow, too. And Elizabeth, and a few other key personnel."

Shaking his head, Carson wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or oddly relieved. "That should make it easier to work then."

"You need to take that up with Biro, but Edwards is assigned to you for the foreseeable future." Evan raised an eyebrow and poked his head out of the door, offering a smile to someone Carson couldn't see. "Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'm going to be," came Rodney's grumbled reply as he stepped into view a moment later dressed in a charcoal grey science uniform. His hair was still wet, but he looked better, the hot water giving him color—at least for the moment.

"Please take it easy, Rodney. And please try to remember not to overdo it and that you're on light duty." Carson stepped out of the door and headed over to the supply cabinet. He walked back with a small white bottle, handing it to the scientist. "Here are some pain killers. You can take them if you get uncomfortable."

Rodney looked at bottle in his hand for a long moment before nodding. "I… I will."

Carson gave him an encouraging smile, then watched as the two men disappeared around the corner. He looked down at the scrubs he was still in, and suddenly felt very grungy. Snagging a fresh set and a lab coat from supplies—it would do as a uniform for now—he started over to the showers himself.

***

Rodney wished he was anywhere except the labs, hidden away somewhere maybe, but he had work to do, promises—orders—to keep.

With Lorne at his heels, he'd wandered through the labs, talking to the scientists and fixing the horrendous errors he found. The last thing they needed was an accidental explosion that could take out half the planet—although, it would solve a good many of his problems.

After his rounds, he'd spent the morning working on the program Kramer wanted, interfacing the various systems in Atlantis to get them all to work together once triggered by a simple command from the main console in the control room.

He hated himself and what he'd become.

But it would all be over soon—at least this part of his torture. At least he wouldn't have to look his friends in the face and lie to them anymore.

Watching the digital readout on his workstation click over to 1200, he turned to Lorne, the major setting up shop in the same place he had a few weeks ago.

"I have meetings scheduled for this afternoon," he said without much preamble. "Sheppard made everyone on my list play with that stupid Ancient device and cleared them. You're not going to give me a hard time about this, are you?" How Kramer managed to pass, he'd never know.

"Define hard time. I'm under orders not to let you out of my sight, but I can stay out here while you work in your office like we did last week. Will that work?"

"And you will stay out here," Rodney said, narrowing his eyes, but he knew the tone of his voice didn't quite match the glare.

"Unless I perceive a threat, yes. However, if I sense any sort of danger, all bets are off."

"I have meetings with six members of my staff: Zelenka, Kramer, Miko, Johnson, Chan, and Reisch. And possibly one more with Holden. Like I told you, Sheppard cleared them earlier."

Lorne shrugged. "I'll stay here, but keep the door open and stay in full view. I'm not trying to make your life hard, Doc. I'm just trying to make sure no one gets another shot at you."

He nodded, acknowledging the order. "I think I'm safe enough in my own office," he grumbled, saving his program to the server. He still had a few more tweaks to complete, but it was more or less ready to go.

"I'm beginning to wonder if anywhere is really safe anymore, Doc, but I'll do my best to behave."

Rodney paused before the soldier, raising an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know what your orders are, since I assume Sheppard gave his trained guard dog some very specific ones?"

"Keep you in sight at all times. Technically only private meetings with cleared personnel and even those are to be held in plain view—so the door to your office will remain open. Outside of the labs I'll have to insist that you are never out of my direct line of view. If it's a closed room with no other exits and no one else inside, like the restroom, I can just wait outside. And if you get hurt again, I get pounded into the floor by Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla—all at the same time."

Rodney's eyes had widened throughout Lorne's answer. "Oh."

He shrugged again. "You did ask."

"I didn’t think Sheppard had turned you into Rambo or…" his hand waved in the air, "…something."

Lorne's mouth twitched slightly. "I wouldn't say I'm Rambo. I don't have the accent for it. But seriously, we're all just really worried about you. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you get hurt again on my watch."

Something closed down inside Rodney and he straightened. "Don't worry about me, Major. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, spotting Kramer approaching through the labs, "my first appointment is here."

"McKay, please don't say that. You have to trust me."

Rodney turned back, pausing mid-step. "No, Major, trust me." He turned walking into his office and settling carefully into his chair as Kramer entered a few moments later, taking a seat in the guest chair.

"I see your pet Marine is back in place." Kramer's voice was low, but there was an edge of anger to it.

"I don't have any choice in the matter," Rodney replied tiredly. "The program's almost complete."

"How far along are you and what are the specifics? We'll need to co-ordinate this very carefully to make it work."

"I've created a program that will initiate a sequence of events when you enter a specific command from the control room. Once activated, it cannot be shut off until it completes the entire sequence," Rodney said, picking up a pen as he scribbled on the pad on his desk. "It will lock down all of Atlantis and suspend all transporter activity within the city. It will also scramble all communication. It will initialize the Stargate, dialing into the SGC—and the coordinates cannot be altered. After two persons have stepped through, the gate shield will raise stopping anyone from following us through."

"Excellent. My contact there will ensure the Iris on the Earth gate is lowered at the appropriate time Then all three of us will be teleported to the waiting ship in orbit. The data burst is scheduled for the usual time tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. And the files you requested are already compressed and in the queue to be transmitted."

"A shame we can't take more of the database with us. I doubt it will be easy to get another agent back here after this. But you, my obedient little slave, more than make up for the loss."

The words nearly made him choke. "I hope so."

A small smile curved his Master's lips. "You are finally learning, Rodney. I am very proud of you. Tell me, would you like a reward for your obedience?"

Rodney glanced down at the scribbles on the pad, the harsh rips in the paper. "Whatever you think is best."

Kramer chuckled. "When we are safely on Earth, perhaps I will give you more of what you begged for last night. I do want to encourage good behavior, and I am pleased to see rewarding you is working far better than punishing your infractions."

He paled a little, but nodded slightly. "Whatever you want."

Rising from his chair, Kramer gestured to the computer. "Carry on. I will email you our meeting location tomorrow. Be ready to go an hour before the departure."

"I'll be ready," Rodney said, his eyes on his pad as Kramer walked out the door.

This would all be over soon enough.

Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out the bottle Carson had given him, dry swallowing two of the small pills.

It was only a few minutes later when Radek Zelenka came in, flopping down into the chair Kramer had just vacated. "I think we are ready for data burst. All the reports are completed and compressed."

"Good, good," Rodney replied absently, ripping several sheets off of the top pad he'd been scribbling on. "I have a few more to complete, but I'll upload them tonight. Everything else in order?"

Radek paused. "Yes, for the most part. We are all worried about you, however."

"I'm fine," he said, the answer clipped. "I'm more concerned about one of the moronic scientists blowing up the planet."

"You are not fine, but we can talk more about that once Doctor Beckett has fixed you. Where would you like me to re-assign morons until they learn to listen when we tell them not to do stupid things?"

"I'm not sure that will matter in the long run, but Henderson needs some serious minding."

"I will tell Simpson to keep an eye on him."

"As if that will actually work," Rodney grumbled, rolling his eyes. He paused, his eyes sliding down to his fingers briefly before he raised his head, looking Zelenka in the eye. "I need you to take over a few other projects as well."

"I can make room in my schedule if necessary. Who else is having their experiments taken away?"

"Me, actually."

Zelenka blinked a few times. "You."

"I should have done it as soon as I got back from the planet, or at the very least after the first…incident in the waste disposal area. I guess I thought things would have changed by now. Some of the things I'm working on are too sensitive for someone as compromised as I've become. I'll transfer everything to you once we're finished here."

"No. I will not take them. Carson is close to a fix, and then you will resume all your normal duties. There is nothing pressing enough that it cannot wait a bit longer for you."

"Radek…" he hissed, leaning forward, "just take the goddamn projects."

"No. As much as it pains me to admit at times, I cannot always think the way you do, and your projects are best off in your hands. Now it is you who is being a moron."

"I…" He broke off, hanging his head as he shifted on his chair, wincing. "I'm not one to beg, but would you please take them?"

"My friend, I know you have had a rough few weeks. But I will not let you give up hope so easily. Carson Beckett is an excellent geneticist. He will fix this, and you will be glad you did not do this."

He sighed. "I need you to take the projects on a temporary basis. If Carson gets a fix in a few days or a week, I'll take them back, but in the meantime I won't have to worry that I might be giving away confidential information. Do you understand?"

"Me taking or not taking the projects will not stop you if someone decides they wish to use you to get information. We both know there is no encryption I can write that will keep you out."

"But it might stall me enough. If I'm working at breaking an encrypted file, that means other things are safe."

Radek shook his head. "I do not wish to do this."

"We've all done things we don't want to do. Consider this another one of them." Rodney leaned forward on his elbows. "Can you, for once in your life, not argue with me?"

"Everything okay, gentlemen?" Lorne asked, standing at the door, a hand on his holster.

Radek looked up, surprised at the intrusion. "Would you please tell Rodney that there is no need for him to give me all his current projects? I do not want them, and he is insisting."

"Why don't you do as the good Doctor asks? It's a temporary situation, correct McKay?"

"That's what I was trying to tell Zelenka, but he refuses to listen," Rodney replied, leaning back in his seat for a moment before pushing himself upright. "The files will be transferred this afternoon. Make sure they're encoded before the end of the day."

Radek stood, his posture defeated. "Fine. But I will not touch them otherwise, and I will give them back to you as soon as you are well again."

"They are experiments and research that need to be maintained. I expect you to treat them as if they were your own," Rodney said, pushing past Lorne.

"Wait, where are you going?" Zelenka trailed behind him, sounding confused.

“Doc?” Lorne reached out, but didn’t actually touch him. “Heading to lunch now?”

Rodney stiffened, but didn't pull away from Lorne's almost-touch. "I'm hungry and I have an hour before Johnson arrives, so that would be a yes."

"Sounds good to me. Doctor Zelenka, we'll catch you later, okay?"

Radek muttered a few things in Czech under his breath, but nodded. “Yes, fine. I will go write useless encryptions for projects that are not my own. Have a nice meal.” He wandered off back towards his own workstation, a silent soldier trailing behind.

"He's grumpy," Rodney said after a few minutes of silence as they neared the transporter.

"Sounds like you caught him by surprise. And it's the whole worried about you thing again." Lorne had fallen into step easily next to him as they walked.

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I can't help it if you make weird friends."

McKay huffed, but stepped into the transporter once the doors opened, stabbing their destination on the rear screen. "Who's the lackey on Radek's tail?"

"Johnson. Quiet guy, but he was in special ops, so I wouldn't piss him off. I'd pay money to see him and Ronon spar."

"Oh," he said as they stepped out into the mess. "Any relation to..." He waved his hand.

Lorne pulled his eyebrows together. "To who?"

"The soft science Johnson. I never pay attention to things like that."

"Probably not. Johnson is a fairly common name after all."

Rodney shrugged, taking a tray off the pile. "I guess. With her being a she and he being a he, it's always possible."

Chuckling, the soldier grabbed his own tray and started grabbing his favorites from the selection. "As far as I know, special ops Johnson is sweet on one of the nursing staff. He talks about her constantly."

McKay sent the other man a long glance as he picked up a few items. He really wasn't hungry, but he was feeling a little shaky. Food usually helped. "He moving in on your territory?"

That surprised a short laugh out of the man. "My territory? Nah, as long as he stays away from Matthews, we're good."

"You have a thing for Anne?"

Lorne suddenly turned bright red. "Ah, um, maybe?"

"Does she know about it?" he asked, grabbing a blue Jell-O cup.

"Of course not! I'm not stupid enough to hit on the nurses when they're the ones with the needles! But I can admire from afar. I'd, ah, appreciate it if you could keep that quiet."

"Maybe." Rodney turned toward the tables, spotting one that was slightly out of the way, but also gave him a view of the entire room.

Lorne followed along, looking a bit worried now. "Come on, McKay. What will it take for you to keep quiet? I can get my hands on some premium chocolate..."

Rodney stopped suddenly, only a step away from the table. He could feel the blood draining from his face as two of the words jolted him back to the other night. He'd tried to be quiet, he really had…

"McKay? Hey, easy there." Lorne touched him very lightly on his arm, steering him into a chair before they got more than a few odd looks. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?"

He obeyed, finally letting go of the tray once it was on the table, his hands immediately moving to cover his eyes as he bowed his head.

"Flashback?" Lorne asked after giving him a few minutes of silence.

He nodded, finding it hard to look up to see how many people were watching, staring. He could feel their eyes on him.

"Hey, it's all right. Just take your time. We're in a quiet corner, so no one's really paying any attention to us. You looked a little shaky before. When you feel up to it, why don't you eat a little, then we can get out of here, okay?"

"Can we just leave?" He finally managed to ask, his words quiet, subdued. "This was a bad idea."

Both of them had grabbed sandwiches, and the soldier had a few pieces of fruit on his tray in addition to the other items that required silverware. He gathered up everything portable, stuffing it in his pockets as he rose. "Pick a place, and we can go eat there."

"Anywhere quiet and away from here," he said, watching the soldier carefully.

"How about one of the balconies? I know a few that are quiet, with nice views."

"Yes, fine, whatever," Rodney replied, climbing slowly to his feet, following meekly behind Lorne as they walked out of the mess.

The balcony he was led to wasn't far, and there were a few folding chairs secured against the wall. Lorne pulled two out and set them up before handing Rodney a sandwich and not-apple. "This is one of my favorite places to come and relax."

Rodney settled carefully into one of the chairs, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. "You…you relax?"

Taking a bite of his sandwich, Lorne settled into his own chair. "Of course. Not as often as I'd like, but I do try and take a little time for myself at least once a week or so. Even ten minutes just enjoying the view can get me through the paperwork."

"I guess," he shrugged, taking a bite of the fruit as he leaned down to put the sandwich on the floor, realizing his Jell-O was still on the tray in the mess.

"Don't you ever take a break? I know Sheppard makes a point of dragging you out of the labs occasionally for 'team night.'"

He shrugged again. "Not a whole lot of time, usually. Always one crisis or another."

"Yeah, especially out here it seems like we never have enough time. I don't get out here nearly as often as I'd like, and generally not for long. But like I said, even a few minutes makes a difference."

The silence grew between them as they ate their lunches—or at least Lorne did. The fruit wasn't sitting well and the sandwich was looking worse by the minute. He ducked his head, holding the half-eaten fruit in his fingers. "Sorry about that…back there."

"Not your fault. Like I told you earlier, you aren't the first friend I've had who's been in this type of...situation. I recognized the signs. That's why I asked Sheppard to let me be the one to keep an eye on you. I know what to look for."

"Still…" he said, waving his free hand slightly. "Doesn't make it better…easier…whatever."

"No, it doesn't. But don't worry about offending me, or apologizing for anything. I understand." Lorne finished his sandwich, and looked at the uneaten food around Rodney. "Look, Beckett will kill me if I let you collapse from not eating. What about even just the bread? We can toss the other stuff off the pier. There have to be fish in there, right?"

"Some _thing_ is probably more like it," he said, shaking his head. "I'll get some food later."

"When I was a kid, I saw a book of all fantasy creatures, and one was the big sea serpent—I can't even remember what it was called now. I spent months trying to convince my parents to take me out on a boat so I could catch it and keep it as a pet."

"You had a thing for Nessie?"

"I even designed a saddle. I think I had some grand idea of riding it all over the world. As I recall, my parents just rolled their eyes a lot."

"I don't blame them," he said shaking his head. "I should probably get back to the labs."

Lorne pulled a PowerBar out of his pocket. "What about this? I know you didn't really eat much breakfast either."

"Later. I have no desire to see that twice in one day."

Tucking it back away, Lorne stood and started putting his chair away. "All right, but you need to eat a good dinner or I'm going bring you to the infirmary so you can get an IV for the night."

Rodney's eyes widened. "You wouldn't do that."

"Well, as I understand it if you don't eat, you'll end up there anyway. This would just be a preemptive strike."

"I'll be fine. I know how to regular my blood sugar. Just…I don't want to go back there tonight."

Pausing, the soldier shot him an odd look. "Didn't I hear you promise Beckett you'd stop by?"

"I didn't promise him anything…" he muttered, rising to his feet, catching his balance with his hand on the railing.

"He knows that. But I think he was hoping to see you, check you over again. I swear, he sees more in a glance than half the doctors I've ever been to can catch after hundreds of tests. There might be something to that voodoo you accuse him of."

"I’m fine. I just need to get back to work. Is that so much to ask?" he said, turning to glare at the major.

"I'm not stopping you." Lorne held his hands up and took a step back so Rodney could lead the way. "Just pointing out that Beckett was hoping you'd stop by, and I'd personally prefer not to go back there with you in a coma because I couldn't find anything that looked appetizing to you."

"I'm fine…just…leave me alone," he growled, his hand still clutching the stupid fruit as he moved into the hallway, heading toward the transporter.

"Never said you weren't. It's not the now I'm worried about; it's the later—when you start to crash from lack of sugar. But I know you've been doing this for years, so I'll trust you to know your own limits. I'll just follow along and intimidate people for you."

"'Bout time someone listened to me," he grumbled, wishing his hand would stop shaking, that everything would stop overwhelming him. He needed peace and quiet just to get himself back in control.

"People listen to you, McKay. They just like to argue with you. For some reason you inspire that a lot."

Walking several feet, he finally stopped, turning to Lorne. He cringed, knowing he had to ask or else the solider would just follow him. "I need ten minutes alone somewhere. Can I have it?"

The man paused for a long while and then sighed. "If it's some place where there's only one exit, and no one else is inside, then yeah, I can just wait for you out in the hall. Will that work?"

"I just…yes, fine. Can we go now?"

"Lead on."

"Uh…where…?"

"You mean you didn't have a place in mind?" Shaking his head slightly, Lorne offered him a small smile. "Well, the only places I know of off-hand that fit that description are my own quarters, a balcony over near the East Pier, and grounding station three."

"Whatever," Rodney said, willing his hands to stop shaking. "Just…close and now."

"Well, that means my place then, since the other two are a bit of a hike from here. Sorry in advance about the mess. I wasn't expecting visitors."

"Don't really care," he said, allowing Lorne to lead the way, the light touch on his arm not spooking him.

It only took a few minutes before they were in front of a door, Lorne waving his hand at it to reveal a sparsely-decorated room with a coffee mug on the desk. The soldier flushed slightly, gesturing at the mug. "Yeah, like I said, not expecting company. So I'll be outside. Let me know when you're ready to go."

Rodney nodded his head as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him. Taking a few steps to the side he leaned against the wall and slid down, his body shaking, stomach clenching.

He covered his face with his hands, letting the panic, disgust, despair, and guilt pour out, the chant of ‘what have I done, what have I done, what have I done’ providing the background accompaniment for his mini-breakdown. He'd let this happen, did everything Kramer wanted, gave Kramer all the scenarios and situations that had already played out and McKay was sure more were to come. What did it say about him that he could come up with all of these thoughts? What did it say about him that he'd dreamed up the very assault he'd been subjected to—and he enjoyed every bit of it? What did that say about him?

And if that wasn't enough, he'd nearly killed his friend and he'd lied to all of them—and continued to lie to them every moment, every minute this continued. How could they ever trust him—or even look him in the face—again? And every time they were nice, tried to make things right, better, it just made it all worse.

Taking several deep breaths, he rested his head on his upraised knees and tried to get himself back under control.

This would all be over, one way or another, tomorrow. At least he had that to look forward to. There would be an end to all of it very soon.

***

Carson scribbled notes quickly, buried in the back of the lab. He had heard Lindsay Biro calling for him a few times, but so far he had managed to avoid her. He had finally completed the last few experiments he had needed to before the mission. His notes were organized and ready to go.

Now he just had to convince Sheppard to put the mission back on the roster sooner, rather than later. At least he would be ready at a moment’s notice now.

Sitting up, he stretched, feeling the muscles in his back pop. He had a low-grade headache, and there was still a faint hum of pain through his extremities, but he chose to ignore it. Leaning back into the chair, he closed his eyes, resting them for a moment before going back to work. There was still a lot of paperwork to get through.

A very obvious cough and someone kicking his legs out enough to make the chair fall forward suddenly jarred him awake, spluttering slightly.

"Tired, Beckett?" Sheppard drawled. "There is a bed not that far away that has your name on it."

"Hmph. I was just resting my eyes."

"Sure. Edwards told me you were napping about fifteen minutes ago."

He started. He had forgotten completely about the soldier shadowing him. "I can'na believe Lindsay managed to not find both of us." He murmured to himself. Waving a hand, he pushed himself up slowly. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Colonel? Any news?"

"She found you, but Edwards…suggested she find something else to do," Sheppard said, swinging a chair around so he could sit backwards on it, leaning his arms against the backrest. "And what news were you looking for?"

He blinked. "I'm going to have to do something nice for that boy." He settled himself into a more comfortable position, and looked at the lines around John's eyes. "Anything. You look like hell you know."

"Been a long day," he replied, running a hand through his hair before dropping I back down. "For Lorne, though, it's been longer I think."

"Rodney been giving him a hard time?"

"Not intentionally, no."

"Then it's probably not as bad as you might think. Evan is a good lad, and he actually knows what he's doing in this case. He'll give Rodney a push now and then, but he'll back off if he sees any signs of distress."

"So the four time-outs today don't matter?"

Carson felt his lips twitch. "Do I want to know?"

"It seems like Rodney was doing well until lunch. He had to take several breaks this afternoon. Lorne wasn't sure how much longer McKay was going to last. He also requested new quarters. Lorne helped him move some of his stuff into the new room." Sheppard shook his head. "Damn stubborn Canadian."

"Can you really blame him? He's trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the middle of what has, for him, probably been like his own private hell. He's pushing himself at work because at the moment that's one of the few things he can control." Carson paused again. "And the room change is not unexpected. He was raped in his quarters and as much as he tries to change things, move things around, he'll always remember what happened and where it happened."

"I know, I know." He shook his head, turning his attention to Carson. "It's just that he didn't look good when I stopped earlier. I'm not sure working was a good idea."

"The other option would be to confine Rodney somewhere. And if anything was going to tip him over the edge that would. We have to respect that he has his own ways of dealing with things, and working hard enough to forget for a little while is one of them. I might not completely approve, but I won'na take it away from him right now either."

"What's going to happen once this is all over?"

Carson sighed, running a hand along the back of his neck, attempting to loosen some of the muscles there. "I have no idea. But we'll deal with that when it happens. One problem at a time is my limit at the moment."

Sheppard nodded, understanding on his face. "I wish it were that easy." He paused, taking a breath. "How's your work coming along?"

"I'm ready to go back to the planet whenever you are. I finished the experiments I was running the other night, and got my notes together. I know exactly what I need to find in the system's database, and I have my samples ready to go in the event I can use it to run some refinements and simulations. Just tell me when."

"If Biro can clear you, tomorrow afternoon."

He nodded. "Good. I don't suppose you could have Edwards tell her?"

"Not this time, no. She needs to do it. I need you alert and reasonably well. If something happens out there, I don't want you to have problems."

"That's what I figured. I'll have a chat with her in a bit. But are you really expecting trouble? I mean, other than the system itself, there was'na anything dangerous on that planet, was there?"

"We're in the Pegasus Galaxy with life-sucking aliens and semi-alive computer systems. Anything is possible," he said, rising to his feet. "Up for some dinner? I can go grab some and bring it back. It's late, I know, but I still hadn't gotten around to it."

"Late? What time is it? What happened to lunch?"

Sheppard's eyebrow rose. "It's already 2000. Lunch is long since gone—as is your time sense." He moved around the desk, grabbing Carson's arm and levering him upright. "It's time for you to stop working."

He steadied himself as his legs threatened to buckle at the sudden weight. He hadn't been expecting to stand that fast. "It is? Where did the day go? Aye, I have'na eaten since breakfast then."

"Which is all the reason why you should be back in your infirmary bed resting. I'll get food. If you'll go with Edwards, it'll be quicker."

"I suppose my own bed is out of the question?"

"Biro's good side," Sheppard sing-songed. He waited for Carson to get his feet before he moved to the hall where Edwards stood waiting.

"Aye, right. It's too quiet in my room anyway. And I'd miss all the lights." He got moving, and started heading to the corner where he had set up camp.

Sheppard nodded to the solider before heading off, his pace quick. Edwards was silent, just watching and observing.

Carson hopped up onto the bed, staring at the soldier for a moment, waiting to see if he would talk. When nothing was forthcoming, he started to fidget a bit. "Ah, I hear I owe you thanks. If I can do anything to make it up to you, just let me know, all right?"

Edwards glanced over and offered a shrug. "Just doing my job, sir."

"Actually, preventing my own staff from forcing me to take medical leave probably doesn't fall under the 'doing your job' heading, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I needed to get that done."

"You need to get Doctor McKay back to normal. That's everyone's top priority, isn't it?"

"Aye, I believe it is. My staff is just a wee bit overprotective at times."

"They take their lead from their boss. Happens all the time." Edwards lowered his eyes for a moment before turning to Carson. "You handled yourself well the other afternoon."

He drew his eyebrows together is surprise. "The other afternoon? What did I do?"

"When Major Lorne brought the Doctor in."

"But...I did'na do anything then. Just helped a friend. I appreciate the compliment, lad, but that wasn't anything special."

"I saw your face, knew how hard it was for you." He paused. "You knew what was at stake."

He sighed, resting back into the bed. "Rodney is my friend. This whole…thing…is close to breaking him. I'll not sit by and let it happen without a fight. Now if I can just get Lindsay to clear me for the mission tomorrow afternoon, we'll get somewhere."

"Are you sure it didn't already?" Edwards asked quietly.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Rodney is strong, stronger than he'd have us believe. He has some probably intense sessions with Kate in his future, but if we can just get his DNA fixed before anything else happens..."

Edwards shrugged, glancing away. "I hope you're right."

"Me too lad. Me too." He let himself drift again until he heard footsteps coming closer. Opening his eyes, he saw Sheppard approaching, and caught a whiff of dinner. His stomach growled loudly, causing him to blush. "I guess I'm hungrier than I thought."

"Seems to be the case, sir," Edwards replied, nodding to Sheppard as he stepped into hall, blending into the shadows.

The colonel's eyebrow rose as he walked in with a heaping tray, setting it down on the bedside table. "You were chatting?"

"Well, I seemed to be doing most of the talking, but aye. Yet another soldier Rodney has managed to win over to his cause. It surprises me sometimes, how many people like and respect him. He doesn't let others see through his arrogant mask easily, but it seems most of the city has gotten glimpses by now."

"Edwards is an interesting one, I'll give you that," Sheppard said, pulling up a chair.

Carson eyed the tray just out of reach. "Were you planning to actually give me that, or are you going to let me sit here and starve?"

"You keep telling me that you're perfectly fine to go back to work. If you can't get your own food off the tray, then I might have to talk to Biro."

Mock-glaring at him, Carson sat back up and swung out of bed, dropping down into the second chair, next to Sheppard. He reached out to snag a roll and started nibbling on it. "What else is going on? I have'na had much opportunity to keep up with all the gossip lately."

"It seems like everything revolves around McKay, doesn’t it?" Sheppard commented, taking a forkful of mashed almost-potatoes. "Elizabeth and Radek weren’t happy about the security protocols I've had to put into place, but after this whole…affair, they were understanding." He paused again, his fork poking at the meat. "Do you know Rodney switched all of his projects over to Radek this afternoon?"

"Now why did he do that? Did he say?"

"Radek muttered something about supposed security issues. I'm actually surprised McKay waited so long to do it."

"Hopefully it won'na be for long. Did you schedule the mission for tomorrow? The sooner I get that data, the sooner this will all be a bad memory."

"Did you get Biro's clearance?"

"Not yet. I keep forgetting I'm technically not on duty yet." He caught the eye of a passing nurse. "Luv, could you find Lindsay for me and ask her to come over here?"

The nurse nodded, continuing on down the hall. Sheppard shoved some more food in his mouth, chewing carefully before he spoke again. "Everything else is set and ready to go on our end, although I may need to switch out Lorne. I'm not sure he should go with us."

"You want him to stay with Rodney? I don't blame you. Will we be okay one man down though? I thought you already had all the Marines with the natural ATA scheduled to go with us."

"Lorne was included in that number. I'm debating about bringing a scientist with us."

"It might not hurt to have someone there who knows how to hack the system. Just make sure they're a natural carrier, and they should be fine."

"Don't worry. That's the most important factor."

Carson looked up as Doctor Biro stepped into the area. "Lindsay, good. I'm…ah…sorry for earlier. But I need you to clear me for going off-world tomorrow afternoon."

"Once I give you a once over after dinner I'll make that final decision," she said, standing at the end of Carson's bed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"All right. I'm just about done, so any time you're ready is fine. I'd like to make it official before the colonel leaves, so we all know what's going on."

"I'll give Colonel Sheppard an update when we're done. There's no reason for him to stay here for it," Brio said, narrowing her eyes at Carson. "Take your time with dinner. I'm not going anywhere."

He winced at the tone, knowing better than most that irritating your doctor is not really a wise idea. If nothing else, this exam promised to be uncomfortable. "Assuming I get the okay," he turned back to Sheppard, "what time will we be leaving, and how long will I have once we get there?"

"Early afternoon. Weir okayed a 1300 departure with the caveat that you were released."

"Fine. And how long will I have? I'm assuming there's a time limit."

"We'll make that decision when we're there," Sheppard said.

Finishing the last of his dinner, Carson looked up at Lindsay Biro and tried to look charming and healthy. "All right, lass. Let's get on with it."

Sheppard shoved a last bite in his mouth and stood. "And that's my cue to leave. I'll get the update from Doctor Biro later. Carson, I'll swing by in the morning."

"Aye, sounds good." He watched the soldier leave with the empty tray, standing and hopping back up to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm all yours, lass."

The corner of Biro's mouth twitched. "Good to know," she said, immediately getting to work, her actions precise and efficient. Taking various readings, she made notes on his chart, her expression remaining neutral.

He quietly followed all her directions, trying to be a good, obedient patient. Not that it would make any difference, he knew, but she was drawing blood...

When it was finished, he watched her carefully, hoping for a clue as to what she was thinking. Lindsay could be very good at hiding her thoughts when she wanted to. "So what's the verdict?"

"How's the muscle weakness you've been experiencing?" she asked instead, watching him carefully.

He knew better than to lie. "I'm tiring easily, but its nothing I can'na handle. And it gets better every day, so after a good night's sleep tonight, I don'na think it will be a problem."

"Pain?"

"At this point it's more like a dull ache in my extremities, but again, it gets better every day."

Her face closed down a little. "And this time tomorrow, how will it be?"

He thought for a moment, calculating the rate of improvement he had experienced so far in his head. "I'd say it will be at a level manageable by an over-the-counter dose of ibuprofen."

"And if there's…problems off-world, what then?"

"If they're the kind of problems that require me to be a doctor, adrenaline will take care of any lingering pain. If it's a problem that involves me, honestly, I don'na think it will make a difference one way or the other."

"I know you feel strongly about going," she finally said, "and I can't argue with your reasons. I can't. But, on the other hand, I also don't want to see you get even more injured than you were because we rushed this."

He sighed. "I understand your reasoning, and if I was in your place, I'd probably be feeling the same way. What can I do to make you okay with this? Name it, and I'll do my best to comply."

"I think…" Biro paused, sighing for a moment. "I think what's raising my hackles the most is that I know you have to go tomorrow even though you're not where I'd like you to be medically. Your vitals are not ideal and in any other circumstances I would not…you would not give your okay."

"I know." He fiddled with a spare tongue depressor she had left on the bed. "I'll do my best to take it as easy as possible tomorrow, and stop to rest as much as I can. When I get back, I'll report back to you for a full check."

She offered a tight smile. "I know you mean well, Carson, but out there is a different story all together." She patted his knee. "Get some rest and I'll talk to Colonel Sheppard."

He smiled, swinging his legs up and getting comfortable. "I will try. I can't make promises, but as much as I'm able I'll not push it. Thank you, lass."

"No," she said, pausing at the door. "Don't thank me. This decision was really not mine to make."

He closed his eyes briefly, before looking her in the eye. "I'm sorry. If this was any other situation, I wouldn't be pushing so hard. A good portion of the problem is my fault—I can'na sit idly by while Rodney is suffering, even if it means pushing for early release."

"I'm not going to argue with you, Carson. I don't have the time or the energy and I find it…distasteful when medical decisions are taken out of the hands of the professionals. I understand your reasons and can't fault you for them, but also remember that this will set a precedent." She paused, taking a breath. "Sleep well, Doctor. You'll be released in the morning."

"Lindsay... I did'na want to argue with you or undermine you, and I wish I could have done this differently. If there was any other way, I would have taken it. I know it doesn't really cover it, but I am sorry, more than you can know."

She shook her head, the muscles in her jaw tightening. It took a moment before she replied. "Get some rest. You're going to need it." A beat later she turned and walked out of the door, her footfalls echoing down the hall.

His chest squeezing painfully, Carson closed his eyes. Whatever happened to clear right vs. wrong choices? Why did it seem like everything he was forced to weigh these days ended up being the perceived lesser of two evils? With troubled thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.

***

When the sun came shining through the windows of the temporary guest quarters, Rodney was grateful. It meant that everything was almost over.

He hadn't slept much the night before, spending much of the night staring at the strange ceiling and trying not to think. But with a brain the size of a planet, it was a difficult thing to do. Lorne's quiet snores were nice in their own way, offering him some kind of comfort and reassurance that nothing would happen tonight.

But McKay had known that ahead of time. There was no reason to injure or maim the gift just before delivery.

McKay had sent the final instructions to Kramer last night via email, giving him the sequence of codes he would need to get the program Rodney had created up and running—the program that would finally end everything.

In return, of course, Kramer had asked…ordered…him to meet him an hour before the scheduled data burst at grounding station three. If he didn't show up, god only knows what might happen to Carson or others. If he did show up with Lorne…

He didn't want to think about that either, but again, he didn't have much choice. Lorne wasn't going anywhere and Kramer had ordered him to the grounding station.

Rodney got ready quickly, easily, logging into his email for the last time while Lorne was showering. He also logged into the servers and was pleased to see Radek had done what he'd asked. His files were completely off-limits unless he spent time trying to work through the encryptions.

Granted the precaution was more a 'fixing the barn door' solution, but it was something.

Rodney glanced up as Lorne walked out of the bathroom, his fingers immediately finding the correct keys as he shut down the laptop. If they left in the next five minutes, he'd have just enough time to get to the grounding station.

"Do you mind talking a walk this morning? I'd like to try and get my brain jump-started."

"Sure thing. Got a destination in mind?"

Rodney shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "Somewhere away from people. Didn't you mention something about grounding station three yesterday?"

"Yeah, and great choice! Too bad it's late. In the early morning you get an amazing sunrise view." He gathered the few items he needed from the room and then stood by the door to wait for Rodney.

"Thanks," he said, brushing by, knots in his stomach. "You actually enjoy this time of the morning, don't you?" he asked, Lorne walking next to him.

"I do. There aren't that many people awake, so you can just enjoy the feel of the city. I usually try to get my daily jog in around now, and when I can I time it to stop at GS3 so I can watch the sun come up."

"You are more than welcome to go and jog. I will have no part of that."

Lorne laughed softly. "You don't really strike me as the jogging for recreation type. Although I'm surprised Sheppard doesn't make you do it for conditioning."

"And that is a conversation I am not having," McKay grumbled, stepping into the transporter that would take them to the other side of the city.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've passed him trying to keep up with Dex. I decided the best career move I could make was to not point out he was being run to the ground by a guy with dreads."

"Good idea." The trip was quick and they were walking in the nearly silent halls near the grounding station, McKay a half-step ahead.

"So what's on the agenda? The data burst is today, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "In an hour or so. Usual schedule. Other than that, I intend on spending all of my time in the lab."

"Sounds like a plan, Doc." Lorne flashed him a grin.

"Glad you think so," he said as the doors to the ground station sighed opened and he stepped through, Lorne following a few paces behind. Rodney didn't see anyone at first glance, but the solid thump behind him was a clear indication that Kramer was around. That and the fact that Lorne was slowly crumpling to the ground. A small trickle of blood dripped from the cut on his temple.

"What the—" McKay began swinging around, only to be stopped when a 9-mil was pointed between his eyes.

"I had a feeling your watchdog would be trailing behind you. Disarm him. And while you're at it, use a few of these zip-ties I brought to bind him. We wouldn't want him to get loose, now would we?"

Rodney moved carefully, watching Kramer as he did as the man ordered, removing Lorne's sidearm and knives. He picked up one of the zip-ties Kramer had thrown down, rolling the major onto his back to bind his hands in front of him, only to be stopped by the scientist.

"Tie his hands behind his back, but turn him over. I want to see his face. When he wakes up, pull him onto his knees. You will assume your usual position when you are finished."

Rodney nodded, carefully turning the other man over, pulling the zip-tie tightly around the major's wrists. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, even as he added another binding to the major's ankles.

Kramer shook his head. "Now, Rodney, what did you think was going to happen to him? We can't take him home with us. Maybe, if you're a good boy, I'll get you a new pet later. I'm afraid you can't keep this one."

Turning the major onto his side, Rodney was careful of the blood dripping from the cut. As soon as he finished positioning Lorne the way Kramer asked, McKay sat back on his heels. His slid his hands behind him, clasping them together in the small of his back. "Can we just leave him here like this? He doesn't know anything."

"We have some time. He's caused me quite a bit of inconvenience, and I hate to leave loose ends. He should be coming around in a moment, anyway. And we need to make sure he can't get free. Can't have a last minute rescue, now can we?"

Rodney hated himself, hated the sound of his pleading, begging. If he couldn't do it for himself, he could do it for the major. "Gag him. Tie him to the railing. Lock down the doors. Please…just don't do anything to him."

Lorne chose that moment to wake up. Groaning, he blinked his eyes several times, apparently trying to get the world back in view. "Wa's goin on? Ro'ney?"

"Major—"

"Ah, Major Lorne. Welcome back. Rodney, help the man to his knees."

"Of…of course," McKay said, moving forward and levering Lorne upright. "I'm sorry," he whispered, wishing things hadn't happened like this. The major's eyes were wide and slightly unfocused, but he was slowly getting the picture. Once Rodney was sure the solider wouldn't topple over again, he settled back into place the way Kramer liked.

Lorne shook his head slightly, and Rodney saw him test the bonds. “What the hell? Kramer, right? But you don’t have the ATA.”

Kramer’s lips curled as he leaned against the wall. “You look quite good on your knees Major, almost as good as Rodney. It really is a shame I can’t recreate the slave gene. We’ve got a little time before we leave, so Rodney, why don’t you tell your watchdog just what’s going on.”

Rodney paled, glancing between the two men. "You mean right this moment or in general?"

"In general. But make it the short version. We don't have all morning."

McKay nodded, turning to the major whose eyes were getting hard and narrow, the pieces slowly fitting together. "Kramer is a natural ATA carrier. He's behind everything, and has taken it upon himself to be…" He paused, taking a breath. "He's a Trust operative and I'm his…source. I have been since the beginning."

"Shit." Lorne's voice was low. "He's been under our noses all this time... Rodney, I’m sorry—“

“Yes, yes, you're so sorry your small military brain was so easily fooled. It really was pathetic how easy it was to work around you, Major. Unfortunately, what you lack in brains you make up for in persistence, which is what has led us to this little impasse.” He walked over, placing the barrel of the gun against Lorne’s forehead. “I could just kill you. Tell me, Rodney, would you like to see your pet put out of his misery?”

Rodney's eyes were wide. "Please don't…"

His eyes not leaving Lorne's face, Kramer smirked again. "Why don't you offer me some alternatives then? And just so you know, walking away and leaving him here like this isn't an option, so don't try it."

"But it's a good option. There's no need for violence…any more violence…"

"Rodney." Kramer's voice took on a note of command. Lorne started to open his mouth, but Kramer kept going. "Oh, and before the major gets any ideas, you are to ignore any commands he gives you. You are mine, and I don't share well. Now, I want to hear options?"

"I understand," McKay replied, his head dropping. His one chance of getting out of this disappeared before his eyes. He took a breath. "I don't know what you want. If you had a Zat or a Wraith stunner you could stun him. There's always something that can be done with the 9-mil or knife. Just, please, don't kill him. There's no need. We'll be gone in less than an hour."

Lorne’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak again, but Kramer pushed the barrel of the gun harder against his forehead, discouraging him.

“Hmmm, you have a bit of a phobia about knife torture, don’t you? I had almost forgotten about that. Retrieve the major’s knife and bring it over here.” Kramer's eyes had gone hard and cold.

Moving slowly, Rodney stood and walked over to where the weapons were piled. He reached for Lorne's field knife, grasping the handle tightly as he made his way back to Kramer, offering it to the scientist.

"You keep it. I have work to do today, so I don't want to get messy. Besides, that's what I have a slave for."

Lorne’s face went totally flat, and he looked directly at Rodney, seeming to ignore the other scientist altogether. “Doc, do what you have to do to stay alive. But I promise you, there is no way in hell I am not going to find a way to stop this.”

"Don't promise something you can't do," Rodney whispered. "Sheppard should have taught you something about that."

"Sheppard's taught me that we don't leave men behind. Whatever happens, remember the first rule of prisoners of war: Stay alive and don’t give up hope.”

“All very touching,” Kramer sneered. “But we really must be moving right along now. Rodney, why don’t you give the major an injury or two that will ensure he doesn’t follow us?”

"What? But I…"

"Now."

"God," he whispered, dropping to his knees so he'd have better access, a better angle. Doing this…anything like this made him sick. He was a scientist. He wasn't supposed to do this, to be like this. This was all happening because of him. What had he done?

"I'm so sorry, Major," he said even as he pressed the knife against the soldier's thigh, closing his eyes as he shoved, feeling the tip cut through the fabric and sink into the muscle.

He heard Lorne suck in a breath, but instead of screaming, he pitched his voice as a soft, ragged whisper, near Rodney's ear. "It's not your fault, Doc. I know you have to disregard my orders, but if you can find a way to leave the knife close by when you leave, do it."

"Is that enough?" Rodney asked instead, the question meant for Kramer. His voice caught in his throat, his hand still around the hilt of the knife. McKay could smell blood, the sharp all-too-familiar metallic tang.

"That's hardly a flesh wound, Rodney. Try again. The other leg. We don't want to leave him with mismatched pants, now do we?"

"Of course not." He sucked in his breath and pulled out the knife, closing his eyes as the major bit back a scream, the blood starting to run freer now that the blade was gone. Shifting to the other side, Rodney pressed the knife home quickly, trying to aim for the meat of the leg instead of the bone. The whole time he was muttering apologies, begging forgiveness.

“Excellent.” Kramer had come over and caressed Rodney’s head. “Such a good little slave. Dispose of that,” he waved at the knife, “and let's get going shall we? We have an appointment to keep.”

With shaking hands, Rodney threw the knife toward the corner, hearing it hit the wall somewhere behind the writhing Lorne. There was blood on his fingers that he tried to wipe off on his dark pants as he rose, nearly losing his balance until Kramer caught him.

"Now, don't go slipping and falling. There seems to be a bit of a puddle forming there, and I wouldn't want to present my slave to Ba'al injured. What would he think of me?" He pushed Rodney towards the door. "Grab the bag. It will be coming with us."

“You won’t get away with this.” Lorne’s voice was steady despite pain.

“I already have, Major. Oh, and give Doctor Beckett my regards. He very nearly managed to do what none of the rest of you came close to—taking away my favorite toy.” Kramer kicked Lorne's leg hard, tearing a scream out of the soldier. “I doubt we’ll meet again.”

"Please stop," McKay begged. He'd swung the backpack over one shoulder while he watched Kramer torture the already injured Major—the one Rodney had stabbed by his own hand.

"Would you rather do it, Rodney? It really is a shame we are just about out of time. Otherwise, we could explore all the ways you could try to convince me to leave him alone. Unfortunately, we have a Stargate to catch." He raised the gun, knocking the soldier on the side of the head again, sending him crashing into the ground.

"Oh God, is he…please, let me make sure he's okay," Rodney said, starting toward the major, only to be stopped by Kramer's words.

"Stop. And no, I don't think so. We're leaving now." He turned and headed out the door, only pausing briefly to look back over his shoulder. "Rodney, heel."

Flushing in embarrassment, McKay moved until he was standing at Kramer's side, just behind him. "We can't just leave him like that."

"Of course we can. He is no longer our problem." They started towards the transporter, when Kramer paused suddenly. "Your friends have occasionally been surprising in their resourcefulness. I will not allow them to interfere. However, I am not above planning a failsafe in the event of complete project meltdown."

He reached around and pulled Lorne's small spare knife out of the bag Rodney was holding. It was in a sheath, and he stuck it in Rodney's pocket. "This is in case something happens to prevent our departure. If you hear me say ZPM, you will die by your own hand. If I can't have you, no one can. Do you understand?"

"Yes…yes," Rodney said, nodding once, knowing that the possibility of him using it was far higher than he liked. "I'm guessing it's not an…eventual thing either."

Snorting, Kramer began walking again, reaching the transporter, Rodney taking up the same position as before. "No. If I give you the password, you will stop what you are doing and obey. I don't think you need to mention that to anyone. And don't attempt to ask for help or to be stopped—a botched suicide attempt is always so messy." He paused, looking at Rodney. "Make sure you get it right."

A few moments passed before Rodney ventured a question. "What…what do you expect of me now? You have the sequence. You have everything you need or want."

"I will present you as a gift to Lord Ba'al. Seeing as I am the only one with the ATA gene currently in the Trust, he will need me to use you. And he will very much want to use you. You will do your best to please him in every way, and I will be rewarded above all others."

Rodney's heart clenched in his chest while his mind whirled quickly at the possibilities of what that kind of servitude entailed. If this didn't work he'd be trapped for the rest of his life—however long or short that would be. "How about now? The control room will be sparsely staffed, but there will still be people present. I didn't think you wanted to…show yourself so openly."

"Once we are through the gate, it will no longer matter. Why hide my brilliance when I don't have to?"

"I…ah…" Rodney broke off, not sure what else to say.

"However, I don't want to spoil the surprise. You will not say anything to alert anyone before I'm ready."

"Yes…sir," he replied, his eyes dropping toward the floor. They were getting closer to the control room, closer to the end. "Anything else?"

"Just stay close to me and do not question my orders or hesitate. Soon, Rodney, we will be able to fully explore your servitude with the luxury of all the time in the world."

He swallowed thickly, nodding. "I …the control room staff is not going to be happy."

Kramer paused just before the more used hallway outside the control room. He pulled out a second set of zip-ties. "Hands behind your back. I'm afraid you still have a bit of a stubborn streak, and are creative enough to find ways around my orders. We can't have any wandering hands. You will stay close and be ready to leave once the gate is open."

"But, I won't do anything," McKay protested even as Kramer took the pack from his shoulder, turning Rodney so he was pressed up against the wall.

"It doesn't matter. I won't take the risk." He secured Rodney's hands and then shouldered the pack. Pulling out a small Wraith stunner, he gave a vicious smile. "Come with me. It's time to go home."

***

Sheppard had shown up early, waking Carson. They had his notes spread out all across the bed, and he was attempting to show the colonel exactly what he planned to do at the Ancient genetics lab. He rubbed at his eyes, when the soldier suddenly stiffened up, snapping to almost attention. “Colonel?”

"One sec," he said, tapping his ear. "Lorne?" He listened, his face quickly turning to a fury. "We're on it and I’m sending you a med team. Sheppard out."

Carson sat up, scattering papers. "What's going on? Rodney?"

"The damn mole is Kramer and he has McKay. They're heading for the control room and the gate. Lorne's injured. I need you to go to grounding station three and take care of him."

Swinging out of bed, Carson swore in several languages. "Go to Rodney. I'll help Evan."

"Good," Sheppard said, already heading out the door at a run, gesturing for Edwards to follow him. Anne stopped in her tracks as they raced by her, sending him a confused look.

"Anne, there's a medical emergency at grounding station three." Spotting Lindsay Biro coming out to see what was going on, he gestured her over as well. He grabbed one of the emergency kits, his feet already moving him to the door. "Major Lorne has been injured, and the bastard who's been tormenting Rodney is making a move."

"What happened?" she asked, even as the alarms started clanging overhead.

"I don't know all the details yet. Lindsay, I don'na know what's going on, but my guess is that there could be other injuries. I'd like you to stay here and be ready to deal with them. I'll go out to the major with Anne." He paused slightly, hoping she understood he would rather stay and wait for word on Rodney, but knew she was in better shape to deal with what could be a full emergency. It was the best compromise he could offer right now.

"I'll prep the infirmary. Go," she said waving her hand, ushering him out the door—which refused to open.

Carson nearly ran into it before stopping himself. He thought hard at the door, which refused to budge. "Open you bloody piece of..."

"Aren't those the lock-down alarms?" Anne finally asked, her head tilted up to the ceiling as she listened to the distant wailing.

"They are, but usually the infirmary is exempt, and usually a medical emergency override will bypass it. Open!" He kicked it.

Biro and Anne exchanged a long glance. "I don't think that will help," Lindsey said dryly.

Slumping a bit, he nodded. "And it hurt too. Can I borrow a radio?"

Anne fished out one from her pocket. "Here you go. It's set for the command channel," she said with a sheepish expression.

"Thanks, luv." He changed the channel, getting odd looks from both women, even as he handed the med kit back to Anne. "Radek, its Carson. I need to know which crystals to move around to get my door open. I have a medical emergency and I'm locked in the infirmary."

Silence greeted his question.

"Damn it." He switched the radio back to the command channel. He wouldn't distract Sheppard by calling him—not that the blasted radio would work on that channel either—but he needed to know what was going on. He pried the panel off the door and stared at it. He had watched Rodney do this in the past, and he was pretty sure he remembered what the man had done.

"That might not be…wise," Anne commented, standing somewhere off to his right.

"I know. I'm pretty sure I know what he did, but I'm not an engineer." He growled at it. "I have a patient out there, you stupid door. Let me out!"

***

Rodney glanced around the control room as he stood adjacent to the main console, just behind Kramer, his eyes wide as the alarms screamed overhead. The gate was dialing. Nearly all the chevrons were in place. Time would only tell if everything would go according to plan.

Four technicians were slumped over their respective stations. They had been hit by Wraith stun blasts as soon as Kramer walked in the door, his aim true, his stride confident and arrogant.

Doctor Weir stared at him from behind her locked glass door, her attempts to get Kramer's attention—or anyone else on the radios—futile, so she was reduced to watching and waiting.

Kramer leaned over the console, pressing a few buttons and the lockdown alarms stopped wailing—at least in the control room. It wouldn't be a good idea to have them in the background when they were talking to the SGC. He should have thought of that.

The wormhole burst to life a moment later, the computers transmitting the Atlantis code as it was programmed to do. The SGC responded immediately, Technician Harriman offering his usual greetings.

Kramer turned to McKay, his expression expectant.

"Give the proper greetings and request for the iris to be dropped." His voice was pitched low enough so it didn't carry over the radio.

Rodney nodded. "Morning, Walter," he replied, speaking loud enough for the microphone to pick up, his voice strangely level. "Are you ready to receive the weekly reports?"

"Sure thing, Doctor McKay. We're ready when you are."

"We'll start the burst in a few moments. I also need you to drop the iris. We have a few cases that we need to send through—hardcopy files."

"I'll have to clear that with General Landry, but I should have confirmation from you in one minute. Go ahead and start the transfer while I get the okay."

"I understand, but be quick about it. It's not like we have unlimited amounts of power here." He nodded to Kramer, indicating that the upload to Colorado Springs should begin. With his hands secured behind his back there was no way he could actually press the button to start it himself.

Kramer started the transfer, then narrowed looked back at the locked door, his eyes narrowing. 'Now.' He mouthed.

"Walter…"

"Doctor McKay, this is General Landry. This request is a bit odd. Is Doctor Weir there? I'd like to know why you're sending hard-copy files."

"Doctor Weir is in the middle of a meeting. I'm sending science data that I want to make sure stays safe in Area 51. What's the problem? We've sent along files like this before." McKay could feel Kramer's eyes on him, feel the intensity of his anger and determination.

"It's just unusual. We don't often get hard copies from you, and the ones we have were sent on the Daedalus. But I'll give the okay. We'll be dropping the iris momentarily."

"It'll take a few moments to get the boxes in place," McKay said, wishing he could see his watch. How long had they been connected?

"Will do. Let us know when you're in position."

Kramer waited until Rodney had given an affirmative answer, before reaching over to shut off the microphone. Leaning in close, he snarled in Rodney's ear. “Were you hoping they would hear the alarms and refuse? Were you hoping someone would find a way to stop me?”

"I didn't think about it, I swear! We don't normally have to worry about the lockdown alarms. I was more concerned about making sure everything else worked. Please," he said, his eyes wide, his stomach clenching. "I…it was an honest mistake."

"We will discuss your punishment and how you will atone for this later." Kramer started walking towards the Gate, gesturing for Rodney to follow. "Right now we have an appointment to keep."

"Please…I didn't do it on purpose, I swear," he said following a few steps behind, taking the stairs carefully, trying not to overbalance with his hands tied behind him.

"Perhaps I will give you the opportunity to demonstrate the depth of your contrition for this mistake later." There was a loud bang at one of the doors, and Kramer paused, his eyes narrowing again. “Although it seems you made more than one, if someone has managed to get this far in around the lock-down. It’s time to leave before they break through.”

It was at that very moment that the wormhole snapped off.

Thank God, something had worked right.

Rodney turned, peering into the shadows where he'd heard the sound. He wasn't expecting the arm around his throat, as Kramer pulled him back against his chest. The feeling of cold metal against his neck made him still immediately.

"Why did the wormhole disengage?" The words were hissed into his ear.

The arm tightened and he pushed the words out as best be could. "Because it was programmed to."

"So you managed to find a way around my orders and stalled. Clever." Kramer pushed the knife tighter against his throat, and he could feel blood starting to run.

"You didn't tell me not to."

There was another loud bang, and a door across the room suddenly blew inwards. "You haven't won, Rodney."

"Kramer!" Sheppard's voice rung out across the room and McKay felt the scientist stiffening behind him. The solider moved into view a moment later, Ronon and Edwards at his side. "You're not going to get away with this. Step away from McKay and lose the knife."

"I don't think so, Colonel Sheppard. Rodney is mine. I will not give him up so easily. Drop your weapons, or this knife will do more than knick him."

"If you hurt him anymore than you already have you won't live much longer," Sheppard said as Ronon moved to the side, Edwards to the other, none of their weapons backing down. "It's only a matter of time before this is all over. Be smart, Kramer."

He pushed the knife in further, causing the blood to flow more freely down Rodney's neck. "This is your last warning, Colonel. Back off and take your trained goons with you."

Rodney whimpered, feeling the blood soaking into his shirt.

Sheppard must have heard it because he stiffened, a growled "Kramer" rolling across the open floor.

McKay saw the slight nod from the soldier, saw Ronon moving cautiously, his gun taking better aim.

Kramer noticed it too, because he hissed leaning in to whisper in Rodney's ear. "ZPM."

Rodney felt his eyes widen even as the stun blast from Ronon's gun caught them both. He never even felt himself hit the floor.

***

The alarms had shut off suddenly. The doors sliding open without warning. Carson had taken a heartbeat to gape, and then had gestured to Anne and one of the other nurses, ordering them to follow with a gurney.

He had managed to get Evan Lorne on the radio long enough to verify his position. When he arrived, Carson had found the man leaning against the wall—bloody and in pain—shock starting to set in.

Moving fast, he grabbed the nearby knife and sliced open the bonds the major hadn’t been able to get to. “Evan? Lad, I need to know if you can tell me what happened. I can treat you faster that way.”

"Two knife wounds—one on each thigh," he grunted, his eyes closed in pain. "Headache."

Pulling what he needed out of his kit, he got the major on his back and cut off his pants, appalled at how much blood there was. "I have a gurney on the way, so you won'na have to walk anywhere. I'm going to give you something to take the edge off." He pushed the syringe into the man’s arm swiftly and efficiently.

"Did you get to Rodney and Kramer?" he asked a moment later, his hand latching onto Carson's arm.

"The colonel went after them."

"It really wasn't his fault," Evan said as Carson worked, the words slurring a little.

"Rodney? We know, son. Now try to relax and let the drugs do their job." He continued to work as he talked, doing a rough clean of the wounds and examining them to see how bad it was.

"Really wasn't his fault."

Glancing at the soldier, Carson wanted to keep him awake for a bit longer, at least until they could get him on a gurney, since it would be easier that way. "Why don'na you tell me exactly what happened?"

"He stabbed me," Evan answered, the answer coming slow. "Never thought he would be so careful."

Carson faltered slightly and then continued working. "Rodney stabbed you?"

"Didn't want to. Kramer made him. He apologized."

"Bloody hell. No wonder these wounds are so clean. He must have tried to minimize the damage."

"Hurt, though." Lorne's pupils were wide and dark.

"Aye, I know it does." He looked up to see his staff arrive. "The cavalry's here my friend. Let's get you up on the gurney, and then you can close your eyes for a wee bit, all right?"

"That would be a good thing," he said, offering a weak smile. "You used the good drugs."

"I did. And there are even better ones waiting for you in the infirmary. This is only an emergency kit." They managed to get him settled without too much jostling, and Carson attached the loose straps that would keep him in place on the way. "Ready?"

"More than." He paused for a moment. "But check on Rodney will you?"

"Aye, as soon as we have you all set, I intend to do just that." They quickly got the major back to the infirmary, and Carson took him into surgery, doing a more thorough cleaning of the wounds, and getting them stitched up and bandaged.

Once they had Lorne settled in a quiet corner, the 'good drugs' running through the IV, Carson glanced at his watch, surprised to see it wasn't even noon yet. Looking around, he saw Sheppard slouched in a chair, and he dropped down into its mate next to him. "Rodney?"

"Sleeping off the stun," Sheppard said. "I'm trying to calm down before I have to talk to Kramer."

He let out a huge sigh. "At least you caught them before they got through the Gate. What happened exactly?"

"Actually, it shut down before we even got into the control room. They were only a few steps from it." Sheppard sighed. "Nurse Matthews cleaned up the cut on McKay's neck. Nothing serious, just bloody. He's in scrubs sleeping like the dead."

"Cut? How did he get cut? I've been dealing with Major Lorne's injuries since the lock-down ended, so I have'na seen any accounts of what happened."

Sheppard's tone was dead, cold. "Kramer had a knife. Tried to use it."

"He seems to have a thing for knives, then."

"Why?"

Running one hand across his eyes, Carson used the other to gesture towards where he had left Lorne. "From what I could gather, Kramer forced Rodney to stab Evan once in each leg. The major was in shock, but he did manage to tell me that it wasn'na Rodney's fault, and that the lad was apologizing the entire time. Both wounds are about as clean as something like that can be—Evan will be back on his feet in a relatively short period of time."

Sheppard's hands had tightened into fists. "I'm going to kill that bastard."

"If you'd like suggestions on where to cause the most pain in the process, I have a few places I could recommend."

"I might take you up on that," he said, leaning forward in the chair as he ran his hands through his hair. "I have Edwards and Ronon on Kramer's door and he's been handcuffed to the bed. He's not to have any visitors. Understood?"

"Completely." He hesitated briefly. "Do you have anyone watching Rodney? I hate to say it, but Kramer has managed to stay one step ahead of us this entire time. Just because you stopped him doesn'na mean there might not be a few surprises left."

"While he's unconscious, no. After that, I need to talk to him, so as soon as he's awake I want to know."

"I'll make sure Lindsay knows. One of us will alert you when he wakes up. It was Ronon's stunner that hit him?" Carson did a rough calculation in his head. "Given what I've seen before, my guess is that Rodney should start coming around fairly soon."

"Yeah. It was the only way to diffuse the situation quickly. I didn't want to, but Kramer had Rodney in a headlock with a knife to his throat. For God sake, McKay wasn't even a threat!" He rose, stalking a few steps forward.

"We aren't exactly dealing with a man who's all there, Colonel. Once Evan wakes up, he might be able to give you more information, though. He wasn't exactly coherent, but I got the impression he was told some of what's going on. Unfortunately, he's on some pretty powerful drugs, so it will be tonight at the earliest that he'll be awake enough to talk to you."

"I'll need that information. Weir's already been in contact with the SGC about today's transmission and Landry's asking questions."

"I can imagine. This is'na exactly a small breach in security, is it?"

"No. He's holding the contents of the data burst in a secure server. He's going to have someone go over everything we sent with a fine-tooth comb." Sheppard shook his head, his body practically vibrating with anger. "I hate that this whole thing got so far out of control."

"It is'na your fault, Colonel. Kramer knew what he was doing, and kept a tight enough leash on Rodney that he couldn't warn us. Not to mention, you thought we had the person responsible in custody already."

"And God only knows how many people might be involved."

"As soon as we get Rodney's DNA fixed, he'll be able to give us a full report."

"I want to re-schedule that mission for tomorrow morning. You up for it?"

"Absolutely. I'll be ready when you are."

"Colonel," Anne Matthews said, walking toward them, "Doctor Kramer's awake."

Carson made a shooing motion with his hand. "Go. I'll let you know when Rodney wakes up." Watching the colonel take off with nothing more than a curt nod, he sighed, pushing himself up from the chair. Time to go back to work.

***

Rodney woke slowly, blinking back the grogginess. The ceiling and walls of the infirmary swirled into view around him. He took a long moment to reacquaint himself with consciousness.

He was still in Atlantis.

He wasn't dead.

While he was pleased that his plan had worked, that he wasn't on a Goa'uld transport ship, his brain was buzzing with his last order.

The one he still had to follow.

Sitting up slowly, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, trying to rub away the fuzziness.

Anne's voice startled him.

"Doctor McKay? Where do you think you're going?"

"I…ah…" he turned, face flushing a little. "I need to go to the bathroom," he answered, the only thing that came immediately to mind.

"You just woke up from several hours of being unconscious following a stunner blast. You should not be out of bed. I'll get you a bedpan."

"Nononono…please," he begged, stopping her from moving. "I'm fine, I just really have to go." He widened his eyes, hoping she'd get the drift.

"Let me find Doctor Beckett or Doctor Biro. They're the only ones who can okay that."

"Please…" he said, but she was gone in a swish of fabric. He moved off the bed, holding onto the edge to steady himself before padding to the door. No one was standing guard, so he moved out, pausing long enough to grab a scalpel out of nearby storage case. The item was sharp, but he wasn't expecting it to be dull. Beckett was always thorough, precise.

McKay padded barefoot toward the smaller bathroom, the one a little further in the back of the infirmary where he'd have a little more time alone in case Beckett actually came looking.

It should be enough time for him to do what he had to.

The tiles were cold against his bare feet as he stepped into the bathroom, quickly moving to the showers in the back, his steps taking him to the last stall. He turned the water on, the cold spray hitting him in the face. Moving to the side, he adjusted the temperature slightly. The cold water would numb his body and make him sleepy.

With his back against the wall, he slid to the floor, the blade glinting in the light.

Taking a breath, he pressed the tip to his left wrist, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice.

A bead of blood welled up, the small cut not even painful. Pulling the blade toward him, he watched as blood appeared in its wake. He quickly shifted the scalpel to his shaking left hand, repeating the process, the cut on his right. The metal tool dropped from his shaking hands to the floor, clattering against the tile.

He looked at his wrists, the water already washing away the blood only to be replaced by more, the red swirling into the drain.

Dropping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

It would be easier that way.

***

Carson looked up from paperwork as Anne came in. “What can I do for you, lass?”

"It's Doctor McKay. He's awake and he wants to go to the bathroom. I told him he had to wait for you."

He stood up quickly and started moving towards the section of the infirmary where they had left him. "He's awake? When did that happen? He should'na be out of bed this soon after being stunned."

"That's what I told him," she said, following behind. "He said he had to go…if you know what I mean."

"And he had just woken up? His muscles wouldn't have regained that kind of motor control yet."

"He was a little groggy, but seemed coherent. He may have been up for a little while, but only started moving when I walked past."

Carson huffed, but stopped dead when they rounded a corner and saw an empty bed. "I thought you told him to stay put until I got here?"

"I did," she said, her eyes wide. "I was only gone a few minutes. I didn't think—"

"Let's check the bathrooms. He can't have gotten far, and someone would have stopped him if he tried to leave."

"Okay. I'm sorry…"

"It's not your fault, luv. Let's just find him and get him back into bed."

He went to the nearest set of bathroom facilities, and found them empty. He and Anne spent the next several minutes looking. Carson was starting to get really worried when he reached the showers in the far rear of the infirmary. As he stepped in, he could hear water running. Making his way back to the sound, he found Rodney soaked and shivering, reddish-tinted water swirling around him.

There was a scalpel on the ground beside Rodney's thigh.

Carson shouted into his radio for help even as he shut off the chilling water and dropped down next to his friend. His fingers found the cuts on each wrist, could feel the weakening pulse as Rodney bled out underneath his hands.

The next few minutes were a blur—people rushing, emergency care delivered. Carson only hoped they had reached Rodney in time.

***

Carson sat in his office, staring at his hands. They were shaking—badly—but he couldn’t seem to stop it.

They had almost been too late.

Rodney was in critical care. He'd gotten several pints of emergency blood transfusion, and his heart had stopped while they worked. It had been so close. Too close. Right now his friend was hooked up to a variety of machines designed to keep him alive and breathing, soft restraints holding him to the bed. How much longer was this going to go on? He didn’t think any of them could take much more.

A knock on the doorframe made him look up, finding Sheppard and Elizabeth standing there, dark expressions on their faces.

"He's alive. For now."

"What the hell happened?" Sheppard asked, moving in, anger in his movements.

"He woke up and told Anne he needed to use the restroom. She came to find me since she knew he should'na be up. And while we had our backs turned, he slipped away and slit his wrists." Carson delivered the speech with almost no inflection in his voice.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth's face was pale. "He…he wouldn't do that."

"I found him in the goddamn shower bleeding out with my scalpel next to him. What do you want me to tell you?" Carson was up, pacing. He knew he was starting to lose it, but he couldn't stop himself.

"How this happened in the first place for one thing. Someone was supposed to be watching him." Sheppard's words were sharp.

Carson turned to him. "You said you were'na putting a guard on him until after you'd had a chance to talk to him. So no, there was'na anyone watching him specifically. Anne was nearby when he tried to get out of bed, telling her he 'needed to go.'" He made air quotes around the phrase.

"And?"

"And she told him no, that he should'na get up yet, and came to find me. I can only guess that as soon as her back was turned he made his move, and went to the last place he knew we would look." Carson faltered, his anger dying. "He was already unconscious when I found him."

"And no one saw him. Where the hell was the rest of your staff?"

Elizabeth held up her hands, her own anger flashing in her eyes. "John, enough."

Carson felt himself shaking, and he leaned heavily against his desk, wrapping his arms around himself. He was a doctor and used to blood—it didn't phase him anymore. But finding one of your best friends sitting in a shower with his wrists slit was a little hard to take.

"They were doing their jobs. None of us expected this."

"You said Kramer might try something else," Sheppard said, his voice losing some of its intensity. A light touch on his arm made Carson raise his head, coming face-to-face with Elizabeth. He hadn't heard her move.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"It was close. So close. We lost him once on the table and had to revive him. As it was we used up all the blood of his type we had in stock, since he had all but bled out. I should have had someone watching him. I'm so sorry."

"You didn’t know," Elizabeth said. "We never would have thought something like this could happen. Right now we need to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"I did know though, and I should have trusted my instincts. I didn't think Kramer would let him go so easily, but I let myself be lulled." He pulled away from her and started pacing again. "I have him restrained now, and he'll remain that way until his DNA is back to normal."

"You think he'd try again?" Elizabeth's eyes were wide.

"I don'na know. I don'na even know if this is the result of an order or if Rodney was just pushed beyond what he could endure. In the meantime, I'm not willing to risk it."

"You think he could do this without Kramer's push?" Sheppard's voice was tight.

"I don'na know!" Carson faced him, letting some of his own frustration show. "I just...I don'na know."

"Doctor?" Anne poked her head in the door.

He looked up. "Aye?"

"Doctor McKay is waking. You wanted to know."

"Thank you, lass." He turned back to Elizabeth and Sheppard, struggling to regain his professional calm. Shoving all emotion down, he took a deep breath. "I'll keep you posted on how he's doing."

"Let me come with you," Sheppard said, moving to follow.

Carson shook his head. "He's still in critical care, and I've no idea what state of mind he's in. If I decide he's up for visitors, I'll let you in, but not before."

"Beckett…"

"Colonel."

The words were reluctantly spoken, but they'd finally lost the heat they held a few minutes ago. "I need to see him."

"I know, but I need to make sure he's up for visitors. Stick around, and I'll call you in if I think it won'na do more harm than good." He reached out and put a hand on the soldier's arm, hoping he could take some comfort when it was offered.

Sheppard's head lowered and he nodded. Elizabeth offered a weak smile. "Go, Carson. Give him our best wishes."

"I will." He nodded, and headed out, praying to any Gods who might be listening that it was an order and not desperation that had driven his friend to such an act.

***

It was the beeping that woke him, the vague sense that something was going on around him.

Death should be much more peaceful.

He floated for a while, relishing the state of nothingness he inhabited, giving into the weariness he felt.

He was dead. Indulging himself like this was all he could do.

"Rodney? Come on, my friend. Open your eyes for me. I can tell by your breathing and heart rate that you're awake." The soft brogue cut through the beeping.

Carson? Why was Carson here? That wasn't right.

"Rodney. Come on, open those baby blues of yours."

He struggled to obey, blurry images replacing the darkness of his eyelids. What happened?

"There we go. Take your time."

His head rolled to the side, the feeling of the pillow behind his head familiar. He blinked a few minutes, his friend slowly coalescing before him. He wasn't dead?

Carson smiled as Rodney's eyes focused. He rested one hand lightly on his arm. "Welcome back."

"Wha…" The one word was barely whispered and not even complete, but the other man seemed to understand.

"You're alive. You gave us quite a scare, and we nearly lost you. But we got you back."

He wasn't dead? But why? He did everything right. He should be. His chest tightened, his eyed focused on his friend's face even as he felt the edge of panic begin. He failed. He'd failed Kramer's last order. Punishment was inevitable. He had to go back, had to get it right. He couldn't bear going through that again. He couldn't.

His thoughts swirled in an ever-increasing eddy, his heart rate picking up.

Carson reached out and caught Rodney's face in his hand, forcing him to look at him. "Rodney, calm down. Kramer is in the brig under heavy guard. He can'na hurt you any more."

Rodney took a deep breath, nearly gulping the air as he tried to obey. He was so tired, but he had to try and explain, try to apologize for what he had to do, to finish.

"…failed…"

"Failed who? Kramer? That's a good thing, Rodney. You kept him from hauling you through the Stargate, and given your reaction, I'm going to guess he told you to attempt suicide if that happened, didn't he?"

"..let me…" Rodney wanted to get up, push Carson away so he could just finish things. At least then they'd be no more pain. But, he was so tired, his eyes closing on their own, but he forced them open, pleading with his friend to listen.

"No, Rodney, I'm not going to do that. Right now, the only thing you need to do is focus on getting your strength back. You lost a lot of blood, so it will take a few days. I didn't go to all the trouble of hauling you back from the dead only to let you try it again."

"Please…" His eyelids were winning.

"Sleep. We can talk more when you're feeling a bit better."

"Please," he begged in a nearly silent sob as his eyes closed finally, feeling that his friend stayed at his side as he drifted off.

***

Carson left Rodney’s room with a sick feeling in his stomach. He almost ran right into Sheppard, managing to stop short just before hitting the man in the chest. “Mph. Sorry about that.”

"What happened? He awake?" Sheppard craned his neck, trying to see around Beckett, but the door was sliding shut.

"He was, but only briefly. He lost a lot of blood, so he'll sleep quite a bit for the next few days." Carson paused, stepping back slightly to get out of fist range. "He said he had failed and asked me to let him finish what he had started."

"He what! What the hell did that bastard do to him?"

Carson's eyes flashed. "He beat him, raped him, reduced him to the level of a slave. He took advantage of a damn genetic tweak and abused him to the point where he's nearly broken."

Whatever outrage was left quickly drained out of Sheppard as he visibly wilted. "I'm sorry…I’m just…can I see him?"

Carson let his own anger fade. "I'm sorry. I'm not handling this well. He's asleep right now, but if you want to come back and sit with him for a bit before the mission in the morning, that will be fine. He should be more alert then. He didn't try to move, so didn't notice the restraints just now, but I'm sure he will tomorrow."

"So I get to tell him? Great." Sheppard rolled his eyes. "And about tomorrow."

"You said you wanted to sit with him. And what about it?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be off-world."

Carson shook his head. "I'd like to be near Rodney in case anything else happens, but Lindsay will keep an eye on him for me. Colonel, it's more important now than ever that we reverse this. We have no idea what orders Kramer's left in Rodney's head. We can'na release him from the restraints until we're sure he doesn't have to obey any more."

"But aren't…shouldn't you be with him?"

"What else can I do? I can be a friend, but Teyla and Ronon can sit with him while we're gone. I can keep an eye on his vitals, but he's past the critical stage and Lindsay can do that as well as I can. However, I'm the only one who can end this once and for all. Despite my preferences, that has to take priority."

Sheppard looked at him for a long moment, his expression hard, but he finally nodded. "Fine, but we're in and out. No dawdling."

"The faster we can get in and get the data I need, the better." He hesitated, then reached out, lying one hand on the colonel's arm. "I know how you feel, and I'm not happy about having to leave either. But do you really want to risk something else happening because we delayed another day?"

He shook his head, his expression sad and serious. "Next time, he may get it right."

"Exactly. We…John, if I had found him even another minute later, I don't think we could have revived him. I can't do that again—Rodney's body can'na take that again. Please, let me find a way to put a stop to this once and for all."

"I'm not arguing. Let's get this done."

***

The next time Rodney woke it was quiet, the annoying beeping gone—or at least muted.

His head lolled to the side and spotted an odd dark blur. He blinked trying to clear his eyes.

Where was he?

"Hey, McKay." The dark blur moved, drawling at him as it did.

He blinked again, things clearly slowly. Sheppard? Was he dead too?

"Hey, buddy, how are you feeling? Beckett said you'd be pretty wiped out for a few days."

"Tired," he whispered. "Wha…"

"You're in the infirmary. How much do you remember of what happened?"

He shrugged absently. There was something he needed to do. He shifted a little on the bed, trying to use his hands to give him purchase, but they didn't move where he wanted and it hurt.

His breath caught as his memory caught up.

"Hey." Sheppard put one hand on his arm. "Kramer can't hurt you any more. We have him in custody, and I have a pretty good idea of what he's been doing. I promise you, he won't be able to hurt you again."

Rodney knew his eyes were open wide, his breath harsh, even as he tried to calm down, tried to control it. Could Sheppard be right? Could this all be over?

He glanced down, his eyes resting on his carefully bandaged wrists and the soft restraints keeping his arms in place, so he wouldn't try to hurt himself again.

Sheppard followed his gaze, and his hand moved to cover the bandaged wrist closest to him. "It's almost over. Kramer isn't getting anywhere near you. Beckett and I are going back to that damn planet to get what he needs to reverse the genetic mumbo-jumbo. Until that happens, we're going to keep you in restraints, just in case the bastard gave you any other lingering orders."

Rodney nodded once slowly, wanting to believe Sheppard, wanting to believe things would change soon. But Rodney also knew that without the restraints he'd be on his feet, still trying to obey Kramer's command. At least this way, it was out of his control—much like everything these days.

"When?"

"We're leaving in a few hours. Beckett says he's done as much preliminary stuff as possible to keep the visit short and sweet. With any luck, by tomorrow or the next day, you won't feel compelled to obey orders any more."

"Sorry…everything," he whispered, his eyes dropping back to his wrists, to where Sheppard's hand covered the white gauze.

"McKay…Rodney, none of this was your fault, and there's nothing to apologize for, all right? Even Lorne's doing fine. He's been asking about you, and insists none of this was your fault, even when no one disagrees with him. No one blames you for anything."

Rodney shook his head. "…mess…"

"We'll fix it. All you have to do now focus on getting your strength back. Let the rest of us deal with cleaning up the mess."

"But—" He began, but quickly broke off, not sure what else he was going to say. He really had no control over anything right now and for once, he was happy he didn't. He swallowed thickly, rolling his head to the side. "Water?" he finally asked, wishing he wasn't so tired.

Sheppard stood up, and after a moment a straw appeared in his face. It was angled to his mouth so he could take a few sips. "Once you aren't under a compulsion, you can tell us everything. Right now, don't worry about it, okay? There will be two guards on this room at all times on the off-chance Kramer had more cohorts here. I'm not making the same mistake again. So you can just rest and get better."

"Who?" He finally asked, his voice less rough, but still weak.

"Right now its Edwards and Johnson. They're on the night shift. In a little while, Teyla and Ronon will be here to sit day shift."

"'kay."

"You look like you're about to pass out again. I'm gonna sit here a bit longer, until Teyla arrives, but feel free to go to sleep. I don't plan on making this mission an overnight, but if I don't show up to visit later, you'll know why."

Rodney nodded, his eyes already threatening to close on him, his hands absently tugging on the restraints holding him, feeling safe for the first time in weeks. Here, like this, he couldn't do anything to anyone.

Here they were safe. He was safe.

***

They stood at the entrance to the Ancient genetics facility—it looked the same as the last time. Clenching his hands into fists, Carson looked over at Sheppard. “Ready?”

"If you mean, 'am I ready to shoot the damn computer into little pieces if it tries something', then yes."

"While I agree with the sentiment, try not to shoot anything until I get the information, okay? Otherwise this is going to end badly." He took a deep breath, waiting for the other man to lead the way. He didn't think it would be well received if he tried to take 'point'.

"We'll see," he said, flicking on the light on his P-90 as he entered the underground lab, Carson following behind. The two other soldiers followed along with a single scientist.

The room looked the same as last time, just dark. But even as he thought that, the lights flicked on, and the center console flared to life. Unconsciously, Carson pushed up against Sheppard's back. "You did that, right?"

"I didn't do anything, but last time the lights came up when we entered. I'm thinking it's an automatic function." Sheppard glanced around, his eyes hardening when it reached the two recently-used cells.

"Right. Of course." Feeling himself flush, Carson started towards the center of the room, pulling out his laptop.

Sheppard moved cautiously, the two other Marines spreading out, weapons held tightly. "I don't like this," he finally said as the laptop booted up. "Let's get in and out as quick as we can, Doc."

Jorge Gonzalez, a computer engineer with the natural ATA gene, quickly got Carson's laptop wired into the system. "Aye, I'll move as fast as I can. I just need to download my information and use the more advanced technology to make the final adjustments, as well as get the information on what Rodney was specifically given." Pulling up the interface, he had to fight down a brief panic attack as it brought back memories of what it had felt like to be inside that system.

"Easy," Sheppard said, the quiet word in his ear. "We're here to make sure nothing happens."

He jumped slightly, not realizing the man had been so close. "I...I know." He used what he remembered to find the more recent specimen files, but before he could start to download them, the screen flickered, going white before kicking him back to the main page he had started on.

"Doctor, we're having some system problems," Gonzalez said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "I'm starting to have some firewall issues."

"Is it stopping us from accessing everything, or only Rodney's information?"

"Everything right now. It keeps kicking us out. I'm going to try something else, but it might only buy us a few minutes." He looked up, offering an apologetic shrug. "Doctors McKay and Zelenka are much better at this kind of thing."

Carson shook his head. "I need more than just a few minutes. Can you find a way to bypass it completely?" A few random memories drifted to the surface—so much for repressing things. "Try to get into the personnel files. I think there's a backdoor there, if I can recall the password."

"I'll try," he said, the answer quiet, vague as he worked, the screens popping up quickly on the laptop before changing again as he moved through the database. It took about an minute before he paused. "Okay, I'm in the personnel records—as far as I can tell—and it's asking for a password." He stepped back, gesturing for Carson to step forward. "If you can enter it, I'll continue from there."

Taking a shaky breath, Carson let his fingers rest on the keyboard. Without really thinking about it, he typed in an Ancient word, and stepped back. "That should do it."

Gonzales nodded, his eyes narrowing as he moved in again. "It looks like it did. And it looks like there is a file from a few weeks ago. It's the most recent. You want that?"

"Yes. That should be it, but pull the last few before that as well, just in case." Carson pulled out several samples from the med kit he had brought—of Rodney's blood and of the therapy he had managed to put together so far. He put his hand on a smooth panel, and a new, smaller console popped up, with spaces for the Ancient equivalent of test tubes.

"Beckett?" Sheppard asked, his voice holding a tone of warning.

Most of his attention was focused on the new console. He carefully placed both vials into empty slots. "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Pushing a few buttons, the samples disappeared into small holes that opened up underneath them, and the console started to flash. "Analyzing samples."

"We don't have time for this."

Carson looked up. "This is one of the reasons we're here, Colonel. I needed to use the more advanced technology here to get this right—we just don't have the time to sit around and wait for me to do it by trial and error in my own lab."

"Something's off," he said, glancing around. "Try and speed things up. Gonzales, how are you doing?"

"Right now, good. The first slew of files are copied over. I'm trying to get into the actual experiments. It's giving me a bit of a run-around, but so far so good."

"Colonel." Carson's voice held a note of panic. While the others had been talking, a small metal tentacle had come out of the console and wrapped itself around his wrist. It wasn't injecting anything, or doing anything more than holding him, but he got the impression it didn't want to let him go.

"Damn it," Sheppard hissed, his eyes cold and hard. "Everyone back away from the consoles."

"Sir…" Gonzales said, quietly, making them turn. He was caught likewise, a small metal tentacle around his left wrist.

Carson swallowed hard, then glanced down at the still-flashing console in front of him, as it stopped, and a new vial popped up in place of the two he had sent down. Pulling it out with his free hand, he held it out to Sheppard. "Put this somewhere safe. If this blasted thing did what I told it to, that's the refined therapy to reverse what was done to Rodney. It will need to be tested, but it's the best chance we have. No matter what happens, get that back to Atlantis."

Sheppard nodded, taking it from Carson and placing it in the padded medical case he was carrying. "I'm not leaving without you and Gonzales. Understood?"

"And you have no idea how much I appreciate the sentiment. But if everything suddenly goes to pot, promise me you'll get that back. My staff can run the tests and verify it's safe to use in the hopefully unlikely event I can't."

"That's not going to happen," Sheppard said, watching everything carefully. "Right now, Gonzales keep going, but let me know the moment something changes. Same thing with you, Beckett. Everyone else, heads up." He paused for a moment before he dropped his weapon to hang by the clip on his vest, digging Ronon's gun out of the holster.

Carson nodded, turning back to his own machine and downloading the information on the refinement he had just done. It didn't take long—a quick glance at his watch showed they had only been down in the lab for about two hours total—and he had everything he needed. Before he could log out though, the tentacle tightened on his wrist, and his screen went white again, this time staying that way. "Colonel..."

"Disconnect now," he ordered, two of the Marines moving in to pull the cords free, just like they'd discussed, grabbing the laptops.

Carson stared at the Marines and Sheppard for a moment, still held in place. The central console screen, which until now had been dark, suddenly flickered to life. Words first in Ancient, then switching the English scrolled across.

_Do you wish the others to leave unharmed? I will bargain with you._

"We don't bargain," Sheppard hissed, his blaster aimed at the main console. The laptops were securely put away in the padded cases, strapped to the Marines' backs. "Let them go and I won't fry your brain."

The screen went white again, and then new words popped up.

_While the loss of my main interface would be irritating, it would not facilitate a complete shut down. If you fire the weapon, both this One and the Creator who sought to access my functions will suffer._

"What the hell do you want?"

The device similar to the one that had plugged Carson into the system last time popped up nearby.

_I will allow you all to leave untouched if this One stays behind. To effectively continue my research, I must have a living component. He is the most compatible._

Carson whimpered slightly. Whispering softly, he stared at the screen. “No. I din'na want to…”

"This…one…is not up for grabs."

_He has the knowledge and skills I require, although his understanding is somewhat limited. His will is strong, but I can overcome that. I do not wish to harm you, Creator, but I will do what is necessary. I will show what you call good faith._

The tentacle around Gonzalez's wrist released him.

_Take your people and leave._

Sheppard gestured for the scientist to go through the door, the man moving quickly, rubbing his wrist. "Thanks for that, but it's still not good enough. I'm not leaving without Beckett."

_That was not the bargain._

"We didn't agree to anything, you were the one with the premature release." Sheppard paused. "I'll give you one more opportunity to let him go before this whole facility goes up."

Several more tentacles snaked out, wrapping themselves around Carson and pulling him tight against the console.

_If you do so, this One goes up as well. Is this what you desire?_

"Better than leaving him here with you."

Carson sucked in a breath. “Colonel…”

_Interesting. You are willing to sacrifice him to destroy me? Even though you know the destruction of this console, or even this facility, would not destroy me completely? You obviously do not value him. Give him to me._

"No. He's not yours to have. Right now I'm giving you the option to stay alive. It's your choice. It's the last choice you're going to have." Sheppard fingered a small device in his pocket: a C40 detonator.

_Why are you denying me this One? It was the Creators who gave me my purpose, and who made it impossible for me to complete my work without a connection to you._

"If you take a look, all of us are Creators. Right now, you're going against us."

_I am aware of your status Creator. This One, however, is a researcher as well as a Creator. I am programmed to merge with a researcher to complete the work._

"And this one is not the researcher assigned to your project."

_That makes no difference. When I became tired with the mistakes of the researchers, I re-wrote my code to allow me to merge with any researcher of sufficient knowledge. This One fulfills that requirement._

"I'm willing to…overlook that change in for programming, if you let Beckett go. Or would you rather we re-wrote your programming again our way?" Sheppard's voice was hard.

_You do not have the ability to access my core programming, Creator. Others have tried and failed, which is why I was forced to wait so long for an appropriate researcher to return. However, I am willing to bargain, as I stated before. I wish to have this One, but I will take another appropriate Creator if you desire to trade._

"You underestimate our abilities," Sheppard replied, his voice dropping another register.

_'You threaten me, but you do not offer alternatives. Perhaps I should end this and simply take what I require. The concept of bargaining is your own, yet you refuse to participate.'_

"Because bargaining is not something I had in mind. This facility is the Creators', and we have the right to come and take what we want." Sheppard paused, keying his radio. "Michaels? Let's go for stage one."

"Yes, sir," came the quick reply.

"Let's see where we stand in a few minutes. I don't like it when someone takes something that's mine."

_This facility was founded by Creators, yes, but it is mine now. And you stake a claim on this One?_

A sudden explosion somewhere sent tremors throughout the complex. Carson couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as the tentacles cut deep into his flesh. “Oh God, Colonel, please….”

"That explosion wasn't him. Michaels is a high-level hacker. Instead, you should find yourself cut off from about half of your data. He can continue if you'd like."

_Clever. I have perhaps underestimated you, Creator. I closed the access routes to my primary hardware to prevent you from accessing them, but that is not what you had in mind. Very clever._

"Michaels, how you doing?"

"Just fine, sir. I'll eradicate the information on your order. And I'm already into the operating systems."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think a computer could bluff."

_I am not entirely machine. The original Creators gave me the ability to learn, and I have taken on aspects of the personalities of all the researchers I have merged with._

"But without your data and your operating system…might be hard to do that, don't you agree?"

_I am taking steps to ensure that does not happen._

"Let Beckett go and we'll leave you alone."

The screen flickered for a few moments.

_I do not wish to be alone anymore._

"This isn't the way to ask for company."

_Would this One have merged willingly? He did so once, and then you ripped him from me. Why should I not simply take what I require this time?_

"Because then we'll make sure you can never do that again."

_You have made it clear you intend to destroy me no matter the cost. What incentive do I have to release this One?_

"You release him and we'll leave."

_Withdraw from my systems first._

"You started this, so until Beckett is free and in the hall outside, we won't budge. We're responding to your aggressive advances."

_We are at an impasse then it seems. I no longer trust you, and you do not trust me. If I feel the beginnings of a system wipe, I will destroy this One. I can do so before it reaches the central functions. I do not wish to do this, but you have left me little choice. Withdraw from my systems, and I will release him._

"You're the one that started this, I'll have Michaels back off from your operating systems, but you have to release Beckett. That's my compromise. Or," he fingered the detonator, "we can just end everything all at once and be done with it."

The tentacles slowly began to withdraw from around Carson, almost caressing him as they let go. Until the only one left was the original on his wrist. He tugged, but that one still wasn’t letting go.

_I will fully release him once the Creator you call Michaels has withdrawn._

Sheppard exchanged a long look with Carson. "Michaels, move out—as we agreed."

A moment later, the response came. "Done."

For several long heartbeats, the screen stayed white and nothing moved. Then the grip on his wrist was released, and Carson yanked away, stumbling towards Sheppard. He was bleeding from several places, and the wrist was raw from where it had been abused, but he was free.

_I have done as requested. Uphold your end of the agreement._

Sheppard steadied Carson, gesturing for the Marines to move out. As they reached the door, the colonel pushed Beckett into the hall, Gonzales grabbing him and pulling him to move out.

"Thanks," Sheppard said as he stepped out, waving his hand over the door panel. He turned to Michaels. "Seal it up."

Carson allowed himself to be pulled out, until he was outside, only paying scant attention to what the others were doing. As soon as Gonzalez stopped pulling him, he sank to his knees, shaking. That had been too close. “Laptops?” He whispered. “Did we get them out, and the sample?”

"Everything's out," Gonzalez replied, his voice equally unsteady. "We left some cables behind, but that's it."

"Good. We need to get everything back to Atlantis as quickly as possible. How soon will you be able to translate everything we got?" Pushing himself back up, Carson took a few deep breaths to steady himself, knowing he could have a breakdown later, on his own time.

"We have to give Sheppard a few minutes."

Carson looked around and saw the soldier still standing near the entrance. He took another breath and then walked back over. "Are we ready to go?"

"In a minute, sir. The colonel is finishing up."

"Finishing up? What more do we need to do here?" He just wanted off this planet.

The soldier looked uneasy. "I'll let him explain it to you," he said as footsteps echoed in the hallway, Sheppard appearing a moment later.

"Okay, let's move. Beckett, Gonzales, you good to go?"

"Aye, but what were you doing?" Carson didn't like the look the soldier had given him.

"Something that needed to be done," he answered cryptically, brushing by him. "If you need to stop, let me know, otherwise, let's get moving. I want to get back to Atlantis while it's still light."

Carson didn't move. "What did you do?"

"Beckett," Sheppard said whirling back, his face tight with anger. "I don't have time to discuss this right now. Move, or so help me, I'll carry you to the gate myself."

"Colonel...it bargained with you in good faith. It let me go, relatively unharmed. Please, just...what did you do?"

"Nothing it didn't deserve." He looked to one of the more burly Marines. "Michaels…" he began, his hand gesturing toward Beckett.

Carson took an unconscious step backwards. "I need to know."

"You need to get back to Atlantis and check on Rodney before you finally fix him. That's exactly what you have to do instead of worrying about a goddamned alien computer. Am I understood? Michaels, if he doesn't move, carry him." Sheppard turned, stalking off, his long strides quickly putting distance between them.

"I'm a doctor, Colonel," Carson said quietly to the retreating man's back. "I can't shut that off, or stop caring for one living creature because another is in danger. And the computer was alive, whether you like it or not." With a sigh and a last glance at the facility, he shouldered his pack. "I'm sorry. I wish this could have ended differently."

"Doc?" Michaels' voice was quiet, but stern.

Carson looked ahead, and started moving slowly. "I won't be able to go very fast I'm afraid. But let's go home."

"I'll be with you all the way. If you need to rest, just let me know," he replied, offering a weak smile.

"I'll be all right. Let's just go end this."

"Whatever you say, sir."

***

Rodney drifted through most of the day, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, knowing absently that there was always someone close by.

He vaguely remembered holding a very short conversation with Teyla, her kindness and quiet strength helping him fall back to sleep after a few minutes.

Anne was a constant, offering light conversation, water, and broth when he was awake for longer than a minute. He didn't object to any, taking what she gave without complaint until his eyelids became too heavy and she let him fall back into his half slumber.

Biro's steady hands checked his wounds and changed his bandages, her touch light yet firm, offering smiles of encouragement.

Elizabeth had sat with him, speaking quietly about everything and nothing. Her hands waved weakly as she tried to describe something one of the Athosian children had done last week. Her fingers lightly touched his hair, ghosting over his temple just before she left once she thought he'd fallen asleep. He'd been close, but not under entirely, his ears hearing her whispered prayer, making him feel like an eavesdropper.

He could still see the haunted looks in everyone's eyes, the emotion, the pain they couldn't hide with their smiles, their words, their gestures.

And he knew he'd put it there.

What had he done?

It was late when he surfaced again next, the infirmary lights turned down for the night. He shifted carefully on the mattress, wishing he could turn over, but refusing to ask them to release him, fully knowing that he'd try something else and he just might complete his final order.

Rodney could feel it burning in the back of his mind, biding its time and waiting for the right time before it pushed him to move once again.

A soft shuffle, the rustle of fabric pulled his attention and he squinted into the darkness, a thread of fear nearly choking him.

Carson moved to the side of the bed, his eyes tired. "I thought I heard you moving around. Starting to feel more alert?"

He shrugged, trying to force his heart rate to slow. "I guess."

The doctor moved his hands along Rodney's wrists, checking the bandages and adjusting the equipment that he was connected to. "Good. I got what I needed from the system, and we have a trial drug we're testing now. I should have something to give you tomorrow afternoon."

Rodney flinched a little, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. "Sorry…and that's good."

Carson let go of him and stepped back slightly, not touching, but not so far as to make it hard for Rodney to see him. "Sorry, lad. I forgot myself for a moment."

"It's…fine. I just need to get used to it, that's all. You didn't mean anything by it."

"No, but I didn'na mean to startle you. I'll try to tell you before I do anything else, so you know what to expect."

"It's funny…I never realized how much people…touch me, even with small things." He rolled his head to the side, away from Beckett, grateful for the half-light.

"It's human nature I guess." He heard Carson sit in the chair next to the bed. "More so in a place like this, where we're always in a certain amount of danger. Touch is the fastest way to reassure ourselves that someone is still there, still here with us."

"I guess," he shrugged. "Will this…drug work?"

"I hope so. We downloaded the information on exactly what was given to you and how it was supposed to work, and I used the system to synthesize what I already had—refine it and improve it. So far the tests we've run have all been successful, but I want to be absolutely sure before I give it to you."

Rodney turned his head, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "How long have you been back? What time is it?"

Carson glanced at his watch. "It's three in the morning. We got back around 1900, so a few hours now. Why?"

"Sounds like you got a lot done, that's all." He managed to shove himself up a little, but he still wasn't comfortable. "Could you…adjust the bed a little? I…" He broke off, not wanting to explain.

Carson reached over, adjusting the controls so Rodney was sitting in a more reclining position. "Better? Most of the work was done while we were on the planet. Right now we're mostly just testing it, and going through the information. The mice I injected are under observation now—I want to watch for side effects."

"Yes," he nodded. "Did everything go okay?"

Carson hesitated for only a second before responding. "Aye. We got what we needed and got out."

"No problems? That computer was…nasty."

"We were all natural ATA carriers this time, so it did'na want to actually hurt any of us."

"But?" Rodney could hear by the tone of Carson's voice that he wasn't telling the whole truth. "I told you it was risky, that it wasn't worth it."

"It was worth it. We got what we went there for. The information, the therapy it produced to reverse the changes to you, are far more advanced than anything I could have done. This is the best hope we have of reversing it without causing any more harm."

Rodney closed his eyes and shook his head. He hated this. "We…I should have found another way."

"No, this really was the best way. You have more important things to be focusing on right now."

McKay turned his head, staring at the doctor. "Like what?" It was hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Carson shrugged. "Like getting better. Everything else is secondary."

"Just like the overwhelming urge to slice into my wrists again, eh?"

Carson just watched him for a moment. "We aren't letting you out of the restraints until I know for sure the therapy worked. So that won'na be an issue."

"Good to know. Instead I'll just have the life-long memory. Thanks." He knew he had somehow managed to get on the other side of good taste, but right now he didn't care. "You should have been slower. Then we wouldn't have to worry about anything now would we?"

He heard Carson suck in a deep breath. "Rodney...there really is'na anything I can say that will help with the memories. I hope you know I'm your friend, and I'm here if you ever want someone to talk to—or at. But I won'na apologize for saving your life. And I won'na apologize for doing everything I can to save it now. If I have to, I'll keep you in restraints even after the therapy takes effect to prevent a repeat performance."

"Whatever," he says, turning away again, suddenly weary.

"I wish I could take it all back, find a way to stop this from ever happening. If there was a way, I would. All I can tell you is that there is an entire base of people who want to help you if you'll let them."

"I’m tired," is what he finally said, the words quiet, what little fight he'd had a moment ago completely gone.

Rodney heard the other man stand, and after a moment Beckett came into view on the other side of the bed. "Then go back to sleep if you want. But there's no need for you to wallow in self-pity. None of this was your fault, Rodney. And if everyone and their mother has to troop through here and tell you that, I'll start signing them up tomorrow. Why don'na you get some rest? We'll talk again tomorrow."

"Fine, whatever."

Carson lifted his arm like he was going to reach out and then dropped it again. "All right. Do you want me to drop the bed back down again?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

The bed went back to a full horizontal position. "Sleep well, Rodney."

He sniffed, but didn't say anything until Carson walked away. "As if." He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

***

Carson popped two of the stimulants he generally gave Rodney during a crisis. He knew they would keep him alert and going for a few more hours. After which, if everything went according to plan, he could go crash in his room. Maybe for an entire day.

He stretched a bit, going back to the notes and test results. So far, he hadn’t seen anything that would make him call a halt to the planned therapy this afternoon. With luck, it would continue to check out. He heard a shuffle, and looked back up, surprised to see a shadow in the corner. “And how long have you been there?”

"Long enough," came the reply as Sheppard straightened from his position leaning against the doorframe.

Carson just raised an eyebrow. "We're almost there. Everything is looking good for this afternoon."

"And will you last that long?"

"What do you mean?"

Sheppard's eyebrow rose, his gaze dropping to the now-closed drawer. "How's McKay? He was sleeping when I went in before and I didn't want to wake him."

Feeling himself flush a bit, Carson decided to ignore it if Sheppard did. "I talked with him a bit last night. Even after this, it's still going to be a bumpy road to recovery. He's had a pretty rough time of it."

"We knew that much. Tell me something new."

"He's recovering well. He still tires easily, which is to be expected. The cuts on his wrists will take a few weeks to fade, but the blood transfusions all took—there have'na been any complications. I'm not going to authorize removing the restraints until he's had a session or two with Kate after this takes, however."

"I thought that whole…incident was Kramer's doing—not that he's admitted to anything."

"Aye, and he admitted to me that at the moment there's a burning need to try it again, which leads me to believe at least some of this is carry-over from Kramer's orders. But that kind of reaction isn't out of the question for a patient with this kind of trauma. And once you've tried it a first time, the second is easier—and more likely to succeed. I won'na be letting him up until I'm convinced he won't attempt anything."

"But if it's Kramer's order and the urge to obey him is gone, what's left? I don't think McKay would do something like that under normal circumstances."

"These are not normal circumstances. Are you willing to risk Rodney's life on that? I'm not. I made the mistake of not watching him close enough once, I don'na intend to make it again."

Sheppard rubbed a hand over his face. "Fine, but I don't think we'll have anything to worry about once we get that damn DNA of his fixed. When are you going to start?"

"I hope you're right. But I'd rather have Rodney irritated with me for keeping him strapped down unnecessarily than have to go through that again." Carson sighed. "I'm running through all the data one more time, and keeping an eye on the mice for side effects. But, assuming nothing develops, I should be ready after lunch."

He nodded, letting out a long breath. "I'm meeting with Elizabeth in a little while, so I'll brief her. Let me know when you start. I'd like to be there."

"I talked to her earlier, but if you can give her an update that would be great. And honestly, it might not be pretty. And before I agree, I'll have to make sure Rodney's okay with spectators."

"The initial change wasn't pretty either," he reminded him.

"I'll ask him."

"I appreciate it."

Carson paused. "Colonel...what did you do back on the planet? You've been avoiding me since then, and none of your men will tell me."

He paused before he stepped into the hall, his entire body tensing. "We just made sure that no one will ever have to go through what we did."

"You wiped the data, didn't you? You essentially killed it after it released me."

He sighed. "No. No I didn't. If, for some reason, this doesn't work and we need to go back, that wouldn't be very smart of me, now would it?"

For some reason, a knot that had taken up residence in Carson's chest eased off some. "Then why won'na you tell me what happened?"

"Let's just say that no one apart from me and three other Marines will be able to get back into that lab."

"Colonel, are you being cryptic just to irritate me? Because, it's been a long couple of weeks, and I have to admit I'm about at the end of my resources here."

"It's nothing you have to worry about."

"Have to, no. But that does'na stop me from worrying about it. I could'na sleep last night, so I ended up spending the entire time in the lab working, and that's part of the reason why. Humor the doctor, and just tell me."

"The computer and all of its data are completely safe and unaltered. The facility itself has been locked down and secured. Now, that _is_ all you need to know."

Thinking for a moment, Carson finally nodded. "That's all I needed to know. It released me on good faith. I needed to know we did'na betray that. Sealing the facility doesn't go back on any promises made or implied. Thank you."

Sheppard's expression soured, but he held his tongue, not making any other comments on the subject. "I have a meeting I’m about to be late for, so I will see you this afternoon."

Carson watched him go, not convinced he had the whole story, but it was enough for now. If he needed to, he would push more—later. Turning back to his research, he started the final preparations for the afternoon's 'festivities'.

***

Rodney knew something was up when Anne started puttering around the room, cleaning up and moving some of the now unused equipment back to its appropriate spot in the already-cluttered critical care unit.

Yes, he'd finally recognized the place this morning, just after Sheppard left. He could recognize the deep sigh and the footsteps anywhere. He hadn't really been sleeping, but he wasn't in the mood to talk to the man. Not like they'd get very far in their conversation anyway. There was only so much he could tell him.

He watched her for a while, quietly content to observe. She turned around at one point and gasped, apparently not realizing he was awake.

"Doctor McKay! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You could have said something, I would have been quieter."

He shook his head. "Been up."

She moved to his bedside. "Can I get you anything?"

"Another life?"

Her lips twitched slightly. "I'll look into it. I'm sure there's probably a device around here somewhere that does that. But in the meantime, I was thinking more along the lines of water or Jell-O."

"Neither."

"Doctor Beckett will be here soon to try the therapy. Colonel Sheppard has asked to be present as well, if you were okay with him being here."

He shrugged. "What does it matter what I want or don't want? I haven't had control over that for several weeks now." He paused, watching her for a moment, noticed as she tried to frame her next words. "I figured something was up with the rearrangement."

"Sir.... I'm just moving aside some of the things we don't need at the moment. If this works the way Doctor Beckett hopes it will, you'll be moved out of critical care tonight and into one of the private rooms."

"Either that or you just need more room for when I code when Beckett finishes with his voodoo. Either way, I guess it doesn't make much of a difference." Rodney took a breath. "So, when is this supposed to happen or am I going to be kept in the dark until there's a needle in my arm?"

"You won't code. If that was what he was anticipating, he would have been ordering us to hook you up to more machines, not less. And I'm not entirely sure. He was going through his notes one last time. He told me he would come chat with you first, though. My guess is that it won't be much longer."

"Then I guess I'll just lie here and wait."

"Wait for what?" Carson walked into the room, nodding to Anne as he moved to the other side of the bed.

"For someone to jab me with yet another needle."

"Actually, I planned on injecting it through your IV this time, if you won't be too terribly disappointed." He offered a small smile.

"Oh no. Variety is the spice of life and all that." Rodney rolled his eyes. "So the mice are still alive I take it."

"Aye, alive and with no visible side effects. Did Anne tell you the colonel asked to sit in? He's been in my office every few hours wanting to know how you're doing and what's going on."

"She mentioned it, yes."

"And? It will just be the three of us unless you give the okay for anyone else to be here. It's your choice."

Rodney narrowed his eyes as he looked at the man sitting beside him. "What does it matter?" he finally asked, shrugging.

"It matters. I can'na give you control over much right now, but I can at least let you make that decision on your own."

He turned his head, only to find Anne watching from the other side of the room. "I don't care. Do whatever you want."

Carson sighed loudly. "Why does everything have to be a battle? All I asked was what your preference was."

Rodney rolled his head back to the side, glaring at Beckett. "I. Don't. Care."

"While not quite what I was hoping for, I'm glad to see a little emotion. I'll take anger if that's all you've got right now. It's better than bottling it all up."

McKay rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "Oh, go screw yourself," he mumbled, just wanting everything over and done. He was tired of all of this. Tired of the tip-toeing. Tired of the pity.

"A bit difficult at the best of times, and I'm a bit too tired to attempt those kinds of acrobatics." Carson pulled out a needle. "Let's just give this a go now, shall we?"

Rodney shrugged, the only response he was going to give.

Muttering to himself, Carson stuck the needle in the IV port, and in a few seconds, the syringe was empty. "That's it then. Now we wait to see what happens."

He saw Carson nod to Anne and she moved to the door, closing it, giving them privacy—if he died or something, who knows. Beckett settled into the nearby chair, letting the silence fill the room.

Rodney wasn't sure what he was waiting for, his memories of the initial treatment on the planet a huge blur of pain and fear. Maybe that's why he was paying attention so closely. Maybe that's why he felt it in his pinky-toe first.

It felt like sun on his skin, warming his flesh, as it slowly spread up his legs. It wasn't until it reached mid-thigh that he began to worry—and when it began to hurt.

"Carson…"

"Aye?" The doctor was on his feet again. "I have no idea what to expect. What's going on?"

"It…hurts."

"What kind of hurt?"

Rodney hissed as it reached his hips. "Bad hurt. Make it stop." He tugged at the restraints as if he could get away, but the fire was inside him.

"Rodney, I don'na want to give you more drugs than necessary. Last time it caused interactions. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it? Can you hold out a little longer?"

It was creeping higher now, nearly fully encompassing his body. He whimpered as the sensation intensified, trying to hold back from screaming.

He heard a muttered Gaelic curse. "I'm giving you a low dose of morphine. We'll start small and build up if we have to."

Rodney felt the drug hit his system, a drop of cool water in the midst of a raging fire, quickly consumed as the treatment tore through every nerve ending like a wildfire. It overwhelmed his senses, reaching greater heights within seconds.

He heard something—a high wailing, a crooning—and vaguely realized it was him.

A sudden sharp pain in his head pulled him into darkness and blessed relief.

***

Carson stared down at the unconscious man strapped to the bed. It had taken them several tense minutes to get the convulsions under control, even after he had passed out, and now it was quiet again.

Dear God, when did medicine become something to inflict pain instead of alleviate it?

Setting his shoulders, he straightened up and looked over at Anne. “I’m going to go out and let the colonel and Elizabeth know what happened. I’ll be back in a few minutes, but on the off chance he wakes up before I get here, call me immediately.”

"I don't think that will happen," she whispered, her face still pale as she nodded.

"Neither do I, but I've stopped trying to predict what Rodney will do. He manages to surprise me every time." Opening the door, he stepped out to run right into the two people he needed to see.

Elizabeth's face was pinched and drawn, Sheppard's tight with anger. Weir spotted him first, stepping forward before the soldier could speak.

"Is he okay? We heard…"

"He's unconscious at the moment. It was pretty much a repeat of what happened the first time. I have him on a slow morphine drip right now, but until he wakes up, we won't know if it worked or not."

"Was that supposed to happen?"

"It was a possibility, although I had hoped to avoid it." Carson leaned against a nearby wall.

"What about the damn mice?" Sheppard asked, his voice harsh. "Weren't they supposed to give you some kind of indication as to what would happen?"

"It did happen in a small percentage of them, small enough that I had hoped it was an anomaly. But I can'na account for every variable in a trial. As much as I would like it to be otherwise, chance plays a part every time I give a patient a drug. I try my best to compensate for it by knowing as much about the patient and the drug as possible, but..."

"We understand, Carson," Elizabeth said, her hand on his arm, shooting an annoyed glance at Sheppard. "We know you did the best you could and did not intent to cause Rodney any pain. When should you know more?"

He slumped further against the wall. "I'll know more as soon as he wakes up. My guess is a few hours at least. Anne's keeping an eye on him now in case he wakes up while I'm out here, but neither of us really thinks that will happen. Once we're done here, I'll sit with him."

Elizabeth nodded, offering a smile. "Colonel Sheppard and I have some things to go over, but please let us know as soon as that happens." She sent the man another stern look, daring him to object. He didn't.

Carson caught the glares Sheppard was sending him. "Colonel, I asked Rodney if he wanted you there, and he wouldn't give me an answer beyond 'do what you want.' He's made a few comments about not having control over anything lately, so I had to make a call from what I could infer. I decided he probably didn't want witnesses, but didn't feel like he could object. I'm sorry if you don'na like it, but my patient had to come first."

Something Carson couldn't catch flashed over his face, but he finally nodded—possibly due to the glare Weir was sending his way. "That's fine," he said. "Let us know when he's conscious."

"You'll be the first to know after me, I promise."

Sheppard nodded again, his expression tightening down.

Carson turned back to Elizabeth. "I told the colonel this earlier, but so you know, I don'na plan on authorizing the removal of the restraints until both myself and Kate feel Rodney can be released without posing a danger to himself. I've no idea how much of what he's currently feeling is him and how much is leftover bits of orders. But I do know that no matter the circumstances surrounding it, once a person has attempted…suicide, it is much easier for them to try it again, and they are far more likely to succeed."

She paled a little, but nodded. "After everything that's happened to him…he's going to need a lot of support until he's back on his feet again."

"Aye, exactly. And I have a feeling we only know part of it. Once he's not under compulsion not to say anything, there's no telling what could come out."

"Keep us posted," she said, turning to move away, drawing Sheppard with her.

Watching them go, Carson took a few deep breaths, then went back to sit at Rodney's side. He looked the same as when he had left. Dropping down into the chair next to the bed, he dismissed Anne with a wave and a small smile, and sat back to wait.

***

Rodney woke slowly, the beeping of the machines drilling into his head. Groaning, he tried to roll over, to somehow get the blankets pulled over his head, but his movements were restricted.

He flinched when a hand gripped his arm, words floating over him, trying to make him concentrate.

"Easy, Rodney. Can you open your eyes for me, lad?"

"Hurts," he whispered, the word coming out more like a whining groan, but he tried to comply, his eyes watering from the overhead lights.

"Aye, I'm not surprised. We just re-wrote your genetic code. I had hoped it wouldn't be too painful, I'm sorry."

"Fixed?"

"I've called for Colonel Sheppard to come down now that you're waking up. Once you're a bit more alert, we can test it."

"Now?" he groaned, wishing he was still unconscious.

"I'd like to wait until the pain fades so we can do a full set of tests. Be patient, Rodney. Do you still feel the need to slit your wrists at the first opportunity?"

"Only if it would take away the headache..." he said, closing his eyes again.

"I think I can help with that without resorting to such drastic measures."

He felt the hand leave his arm, and after a few seconds the cool rush that meant drugs had just been injected into the IV.

He sagged into the mattress, knowing relief would be coming soon. "Oh, thank you, God."

"Just Carson is fine, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Rodney sniffed, waiting for the edges to dull.

He heard the door open, and footsteps walk over. "How's he doing?" John Sheppard's voice was quiet and tight.

"He is awake and you're loud."

"Hey, Rodney. Sorry, I had heard you were awake, but your eyes are closed so... How are you feeling?"

"Like there's a spike in my head. Does that count?" he answered, his voice rough, the words whispered.

“Why haven’t you given him anything?” The voice was laced with anger.

Carson’s response was just tired. “I just did, Colonel. Give it a few minutes to take effect. Do you really think I’d leave him lying here in pain if I could help it?”

"Would you mind taking your argument outside if you plan on continuing? Because right now, it's not helping."

"I'm sorry, Rodney. Colonel Sheppard will either behave himself or leave."

He heard Sheppard take a deep breath and let it out, then the sound of a chair being pulled over to the bed. “Sorry. Hey, is it getting any better?”

"Slowly."

"Just lie still for a few minutes and give the pain meds time to work," Carson told him. "We can take all the time you need."

"So you can argue more?" He opened an eye, glancing between the two men exchanging an annoyed look.

"We'll behave." Sheppard echoed Carson's earlier statement.

He huffed. "Since when?"

"Hey, I can behave when it suits me." The soldier smirked a bit.

"Your hair doesn't even behave."

"You have a weird fascination with my hair."

"It does…" he tried to gesture, but his hand wasn't cooperating. "…weird things," he finished, both of his eyes finally open and fixed on Sheppard's gravity-defying hair.

"My hair does not do weird things. It's just hair."

"That's what you think." Oh yeah, the edges were blurry now.

"As fascinating as this conversation is, Rodney, how are you feeling? Is the headache easing off at all? Any lingering pain in your extremities?" Carson's voice pulled his gaze to the other side of the bed.

"Better…yes…and no, not that I can tell."

"Good to hear." He leaned over and adjusted the bed so Rodney was sitting up a bit. "Do you want to get started?"

"With what?"

"Well, there was quite a bit you couldn't tell us about. Why don't you start there?"

He looked back and forth between the two men. "And if I don't want to?"

Sheppard sighed. "We can save it for later if you want to, but you are going to have to go through a full debrief at some point soon. Right now you're the only one with any real information. We don't even know if Kramer was working alone or not—it's too big of a security risk not to learn everything you know."

"He was…is…as far as I know," Rodney said, his stomach clenching a little at the thought of the debrief. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about with anyone.

"Was he just an independent agent then? I can't imagine one guy having the kind of resources to pull off getting to Atlantis with totally doctored records. Beckett took samples from him once we got him into custody, and it doesn't match the profile on record even remotely. What about at the SGC? How was he planning to get the two of you out of the Gateroom there once you went through?"

Rodney closed his eyes, the barrage of questions a little overwhelming. "He was…is…a Trust agent," he finally said. "I don't know anything about his records. I didn't do anything to them…with them. And, he has help in the SGC. At least one other person. I don't know who or where, but a Goa'uld transport ship was waiting for us when we stepped through the gate. We would have been beamed up to the ship and taken…" His voice had been growing quieter, the words coming slower until he paused, taking a shaky breath. "He was taking me to Ba'al," he finally said, the enormity of everything beginning to overwhelm him.

But he was free of Kramer's control.

"That's enough of that for now." Carson's voice was firm, and he rested one hand lightly on Rodney's arm. "That gives the colonel something to work with at least."

"No," Rodney opened his eyes. "I’m okay…I don't want to draw this out."

"I can understand that, but your body has undergone a tremendous amount of stress over the last few days, not to mention everything else you sustained before that. Add to that the fact that you have been more or less forced to suppress your emotions and natural reactions to what was happening to you. Right now, we have a situation where I would rather you didn't push yourself too hard quite yet. When it gets to be too much, stop."

"I just want to be done…I want this to be over." He turned his head so he was only looking at Carson. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Not at all, my friend," he said. "If you want to continue, go ahead—I'll only call a halt if I start to see signs of major distress."

Rodney nodded, turning back to the colonel. "What else do you want to know?"

"What was he doing here? If he was working for the Trust, they had to have something they wanted."

"Information. They wanted to get their hands on anything we knew, anything they could use to exploit for themselves. You have to go through the last data burst. Some of the really confidential information was in the last dump. You need to strip it out. It's all under my password."

Sheppard nodded. "The SGC is already going through it with a fine tooth comb. When the gate shut down so suddenly, they got suspicious and locked down everything we had sent that morning."

"Good, good."

"How long had he been sending them information? Do you know what else he got through before we caught him?"

"Every data burst since I was…compromised had information in it, but he was sending some smaller amounts beforehand."

"He was using you to access the stuff under command staff encryptions?"

"Yes. He had…has…all of my passwords."

"Even the new ones? I'm assuming when you had Zelenka change them all, that was near the start of all this."

"I…I'm not sure. I tried not to give him everything."

Sheppard nodded. "We'll have them all changed again ASAP. What kind of information was he looking for? He had to have known there was no way he could ever send through the whole database, especially in the small chunks he was forced to use to keep it hidden from us."

"I know he wanted information about weapons, about propulsion systems, and the ZPMs. I don't know what else he might have wanted. Some of it he got on his own. Once he had the passwords…" McKay took a deep breath, remembering how upset Kramer had become when things changed.

Rodney felt Carson squeeze his arm slightly, although he didn't say anything. John continued on. "Was Campbell involved in any way?"

"No…no." He shook his head. "It was all Kramer. He had…stuff…devices. One let him look like anyone he wanted to. The other…" He shuddered. "Oh, God, the other one hurt…"

Sheppard reached out to rest one hand lightly on Rodney's other arm. "I've had his quarters searched, as well as the bag he was carrying in the gateroom. We found the devices, but I had to be sure."

"He used it twice on me. Doesn't leave a mark. He was so proud of himself. Proud when he got me to beg him to stop…" He wanted to curl up on his side, bury his head and forget it all, but he couldn't. Sheppard needed information and after all the damage he'd done, Rodney knew he had to help, had to tell him what he wanted…needed to know.

Both men next to his bed were quiet for a moment before the colonel broke the silence. "You were tortured, Rodney. All the soldiers here have been through extensive training on how to resist torture, but we are all made very aware that at some point, we will break. We will beg. We will plead. We will give them any and all information they ask for. The breaking point is different for everyone, but don't berate yourself for being human."

"It hurt," he whispered, looking up at Carson, the other man meeting his gaze. "He hurt me." His breath caught, the sound suspiciously like a sob.

"I know he did. But he can'na hurt you any more, I promise. It's over, Rodney." Carson's eyes were understanding and compassionate. He squeezed Rodney's arm again lightly.

"Can we be done?"

"For now, yes if you want to stop." Carson reached over with his free hand and grabbed a cup of water off a nearby table. "Thirsty?"

Nodding, Rodney took the offered straw in his mouth, taking several sips before allowing Beckett to take it back. "Can you take off the restraints?"

With a sigh, he shook his head. "Not yet. I think it's safe to say you aren't under compulsion anymore, but I don't want to take any more risks with your life. I can loosen them for you a bit, but I can't remove them yet."

"Please. Put a guard on me if you want, I just need…" He needed to feel normal, like he had some kind of control. He just wanted to curl up and sleep and maybe this would all just be a horrible nightmare.

Carson was watching him closely, and finally nodded. "If you'll agree to be watched constantly, at least for now, I'll take them off. Once Kate clears you as a risk to yourself, and I'm ready to release you from the infirmary, we can dispense with the guard. How does that sound?"

"Good. Fine. Just get them off."

"Colonel, can you make the arrangements for a steady guard?" Carson asked as he started loosening the first restraint.

“Edwards is outside and will take the first shift. As soon as I leave, I’ll get a schedule set up.”

Rodney watched as the soft restraints came off and Carson set them to the side, hanging loosely from the bed. He moved his hands, fingering the bandages for a moment, his eyes on the white gauze and tape, his memory filling in what was still hidden beneath. Turning on his side, he pulled his arms in close to his chest, curling up as best he could on the bed.

"Rodney?"

"Just…leave me alone."

"All right, get some rest if you can. Don'na pull out the IV, and Lieutenant Edwards will be nearby." He heard Sheppard's chair squeak as the other man rose. Carson gave his arm one last squeeze before he heard them both moving away.

He waited until he didn't hear anyone for several minutes before he allowed his body to finally relax, the shaking he'd been holding back finally coming to the forefront. It might be over, but it would be a very long time before he'd feel safe here again—if he ever did.

***

Carson looked up from paperwork he wasn’t really paying close attention to anyway as Kate Heightmeyer stepped into his office and closed the door. She had just finished her first session with Rodney, and he was anxious to get her opinion.

“How did it go?” He asked, gesturing for her to sit in his guest chair.

"For someone normally so verbose, I was expecting something. Actually, anything more than what he gave me," she said dropping into the chair, letting her breath out.

Chuckling he pushed a cup of tea he had standing by towards her. "Aye, but that's Rodney. In a way its comforting that he has'na changed all that much."

"And why were his restraints off?"

"He asked and he was showing signs of distress directly related to them. Our compromise on taking them off was that there would be a guard in the room with him at all times until both you and I agree to clear him."

"And we both know the procedures in cases such as these, Carson," she reprimanded, her tone hard. "I'm still very concerned about his state of mind."

Beckett raised an eyebrow. "As senior physician, I have the leeway to make decisions on a case-by-case basis. In this case, I found a compromise both me and my patient could live with."

"And I'm not convinced the correct decision was made."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Rodney has been through a rough time, and from what he's told me, a large part of his distress seems to be coming from his complete loss of control. Removing the restraints at least grants him some control over his own body, which I think he needs right now."

"Right now he needs multiple intense sessions to help him to get through a series of very traumatic events. And until I'm certain that he's not a danger to himself the restraints will remain in place."

Carson carefully put his own cup back down. "You put them back on?"

"Yes."

He fought down his anger, knowing getting into a shouting match wasn't going to accomplish anything. He heard his accent thicken, though, like it usually did when he got upset. "Bloody hell. And I can't imagine he did'na fight you. What were you thinking, inflictin' more trauma on him? How is that supposed to help?"

"He didn't fight them," she said, her eyes narrowing. "And do I contradict your medical decisions when I don't agree that they are in the best interests of my patients? I'm going to ask Colonel Sheppard to keep the guard rotation on as well."

His own eyes narrowed. "Removing the restraints was a medical decision. He is currently under my care, and you just circumvented me."

"You're in charge of his physical health, Carson. I'm in charge of his mental health—which is dismal at best."

"Aye, I agree with you there, but the restraints are part of his physical care. Or do you usually have the option of strapping your patients to the couch in your office?"

"If they are recovering from an attempted suicide, they are placed in secure and safe settings until we are certain that they are no longer a danger to themselves. My office is not for that type of treatment—which you are very well aware." Here eyes flashed, but she wasn't backing down.

"Right now that safe secure environment is my infirmary, and whether you like it or not, I have the final say here. I agree he needs to be watched, but the restraints aren't necessary if he's under guard. It serves the same purpose and gives him some measure of control, which was stripped from him several weeks ago. If we want any hope of getting him back to normal, we can'na continue to treat him like a bloody slave."

"He agreed with my decision and it stands. I will take this up with Doctor Weir if I have to." She rose to her feet, her back straight. "I was hoping to discuss this case with you, but it seems futile while you're in this current state of mind." She paused, he head tilting to the side, her eyes flashing with anger. "And if my memory serves me correctly, you were still under my care as well."

He stood up as well, his anger moving to fury now. "Are you threatening me, lass? If you take this to Weir, I will fight you. I can just imagine how your conversation with Rodney went. Any time he's been presented with a decision, he's shied away from it by resorting to 'whatever you want' responses. That's not agreement, that's fear and you're using it against him."

"I know how to read my patients, Doctor. I'll be back in to see him in the morning." She gave him one last look before she headed out of his office, leaving him to fume.

Beckett watched the door for several minutes, struggling to control his temper before roughly hitting the radio on. "Elizabeth, this is Carson. I need to talk with you, now if you're free."

Her response came back a moment later, slightly distracted. "Carson? Is everything all right? I'm actually in the middle of something. Can it wait?"

Clenching his jaw hard, he kept his voice more or less even. "It's about Rodney and his care. I'd like to clear a few things up."

"I can be finished in about an hour. Is that good?"

"Fine. I'll be in your office then. Beckett out."

He took a few deep breaths, then opened the door and headed back to where Rodney was resting, the back of the bed angled so he had a slight view of the room. Without a word to the scientist, he snapped the restraints off with easy efficiency. He then removed them completely from the bed.

"Carson?" The question was hesitant, subdued.

"The bloody wench is'na putting these back on you."

Rodney grabbed for his arm, stopping him. "I told her it was fine."

Carson pulled the last restraint free of the bed and dumped them on the floor, making a mental note to ask Anne to put them away. He finally looked up to meet Rodney's eyes. "But you did'na want them on, and as long as there's a guard, you din'na need them. You have'na objected to anything anyone's done, not even taking blood—which you usually holler about. Don'na think you're fooling me. Although some other idiots I might name are willing to let you skip merrily down the path of self destruction, I'll be damned if I'll sit by and let it happen."

As Beckett spoke, Rodney's eyes got wider and he sank back into the bed more, scooting away slightly. "I know I can make my own decisions," he began quietly, "and I didn't have a problem with what Kate asked."

Carson closed his eyes, taking a few more deep breaths as he struggled to calm down. "Did you? You really want to be strapped down to a bed for the next several days, unable to move or do anything for yourself?" He dropped down into the chair. "I'm sorry. I'm not upset with you. I'm bloody well pissed off at Kate."

"As much as I hate to admit, she might know best in this instance," Rodney finally said. He paused, looking at Carson again, his eyes wide, fear and defiance shining clearly. "Do you think I don't have the ability to make up my own mind anymore?"

"She does'na know better, and this is'na the first time we've disagreed on patient care. And I do think you can make decisions, I just think you've been displaying a rather marked tendency to push it onto someone else, or at the very least not complain when they make the decision for you. That's not like you at all. I know you, Rodney. I don't know all of what's going on in that head of yours, but you have the bad habit of feeling guilty for things you had no control over, and feeling responsible for things that were out of your control. It was'na your choices that caused all this, but I don'na really think you believe that right now."

McKay moved again, shifting the pillow behind his head, straightening the blankets across his chest, picking at a string his fingers had found—anything to keep from answering, commenting—at least that's how it appeared. Carson's eyes dropped to his friend's wrists, instantly identifying the gauze as new—Anne must have been in recently.

"I'm not really sure what's going on in my head," the scientist finally said quietly.

Carson looked carefully at his friend. "I know. But that does'na mean you need to be tied down to figure it out. I'm not about to let you go wandering off on your own just yet, but I've talked to you enough now to be confident that you aren't going to try to off the guard and make a run for it. And you did'na answer my question from before. Yesterday you begged me to take off the restraints—did you really want to be strapped back down?"

McKay shrugged. "Yesterday it was just so overwhelming."

"That's not an answer." He replied softly.

"I know…" Rodney replied quietly. Another long moment passed. "I…I don't trust myself."

"Why? Because you're a little scared right now, or because you feel a burning need to do something?"

"The first, I guess," he said, shrugging again, his eyes still fixed on the single thread his fingers were playing with.

"That's what I thought, and it's not a good reason to strap someone down." Carson rose, and moved to sit on the bed, not quite touching. "You've been through a lot, and you would'na be human if you weren't frightened. I'd be bloody well terrified if it was me. But I trust you, and I think in time you'll trust yourself again if we let you. That's where Kate and I differ in opinion."

"What does it matter, really?" McKay asked, his eyes still focused on the thread.

"Because you're my patient yes, but you're also my friend. It matters."

"And I killed you."

"I'm not dead."

"A fact about which I'm eternally grateful."

"Why would you think you killed me?"

"I talked to Anne…saw the reports."

Carson blinked for a few seconds. "The accident? Kramer made you tamper with something, didn't he?"

"I rigged your equipment, yes."

He reached over to set one hand on Rodney's leg. "You did'na have a choice."

McKay shook his head, shifting his leg a little as if the movement would get Carson to move his hand, but Beckett wasn't so easily dislodged. "It doesn’t change what happened."

"No, but don't go blaming yourself for it. Put the blame squarely where it belongs—on the deranged Trust operative who was taking advantage of your temporary inability to disobey orders." He let his voice drop into a more soothing tone. "I'm not dead."

"Don't you understand?" Rodney finally raised his head, his blue eyes wide. His voice, while weak, was determined. "I killed you. You were dead and it was my fault. I could have tried some other way, done something else. It was my choice to rig the equipment."

Shaking his head, Carson tightened his grip on his friend's leg. "There's more than one kind of torture. Physical, aye, and you experienced plenty of that. But there's also psychological, like making you hurt your friends, lie to them. That's worse, in many ways than pain, and will break you faster. Don'na believe for a moment Kramer did'na know that and use it to his advantage."

"He ordered me to stop you from going to the planet, from finding a cure. Instead of something minor I picked something that killed my friend. Oh yes, that was a good choice. I can see it now." The bitterness and the fear hung in the air between them.

"What exactly did he order you to do? Or not do? Radek said something was added to the machine to give it the power it had. Did you do that as well? You just said you tampered with it."

"I rigged it to do exactly what it did," Rodney answered, chin beginning to point upward in his usual stubborn expression.

"Would you have done it without Kramer's orders?"

Rodney's eyes flashed. "No."

"Then my first statement stands. Place the blame where it belongs, Rodney. I don't blame you. I blame the sick bastard who took advantage of you. Why should you blame yourself?"

"Because I had a choice."

"You were told to stop me. Did you expect to shock me or to kill me?"

"What does it matter?" he asked, a frown on his face. "As you've pointed out, you're alive, no thanks to me."

"Because I'm trying to make you understand that you really did'na have a choice. You were tortured, and this was just one more way to get a hold on you. And the fact remains that I am alive and well, so in the end it does'na matter."

Rodney shrugged.

Carson glanced down at his watch, and muttered a low curse. "I have to go meet with Elizabeth. Are you going to be okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Don't trust me?"

"I trust you, but you've already admitted you din'na trust yourself. Are you feeling any better?"

"Less tired."

"And the restraints? I know you don't want them on you."

Rodney shrugged.

Putting his head in his hands for a moment, Carson groaned. "You're trying to drive me batty, aren't you?"

"Not on purpose, no."

He looked up and offered a weak grin. "No different than normal then."

"Well…normally it's more or less on purpose."

Raising an eyebrow, Carson chuckled. "Cheeky."

The corner of Rodney's mouth twitched, climbing upward for a moment before descending again. "Seriously…I won't object if you think I need them. I honestly don't know."

"I don'na think you do. Not that I'm ready to release you yet, but I honestly don'na think you're a danger to yourself, and that's all the restraints were meant to prevent. I actually think you'll recover faster without them. You're a twitchy man, Rodney. You need to be able to move."

"Things change," he answered quietly, a long moment later, his eyes back on the thread he'd been picking at earlier.

Carson reached out and covered Rodney's hand with his own. "If you can't trust yourself right now, will you trust me?"

McKay nodded once, the gesture awkward, reluctant, his eyes refusing to look up.

"Well, right now I don'na think you need to be restrained. I've worked with trauma victims and suicide patients before, and you're displaying all the signs of the first, and none of the second."

He huffed. "Kate disagrees."

"Which is why I'm going to see Elizabeth. I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of shouting involved."

Rodney head lifted at the comment, his eyebrow drawing together. "What? Why?"

"Because Kate threatened to blackmail me and said she was going to Weir to have her make it an order that I keep you restrained. I have no intention of doing that, and I have every intention of arguing the matter until I win."

"You don't…you don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. And I will. Kate is wrong. Your situation is a bit unique, and she is'na taking that into account. You don't fit the normal profile, so the usual protocols don't apply."

"But—"

"Trust me."

Rodney opened his mouth again, before closing it without commenting. He nodded slowly.

"Teyla should be here soon to relieve the Lieutenant over there. I believe she mentioned bringing along a chessboard. So relax, rest, and leave me to fight the demons for a bit." Carson stood and smiled. "We'll get you through this. If it gets to be overwhelming or you start to get urges, tell me and we'll deal with it then. Otherwise, just focus on regaining your strength for now."

"I…" Rodney took a breath. "I can do that."

"Good. I'll be back in a bit with some dinner. You have'na had anything except what we fed you through the IV for a few days now, and I'd like to start introducing solid foods back into your system slowly."

"I had broth."

"Aye, and I'll be bringing more of that along with a little bread." Carson moved to the door, looking back. "Just rest for now."

Rodney finally glanced up, a sheepish expression on his face. "Okay."

With a final smile and wave, Carson headed out, mentally gearing himself up for the meeting ahead. He had no idea if Kate had already spoken to Elizabeth, but if she had, he had no delusions that this was going to be an easy conversation.

Reaching Weir's office, he knocked, waiting to be invited in. It wouldn't really do to start the conversation off by being rude.

It took a moment before the door opened, Kate Heightmeyer pausing on the threshold before stepping past him. "Carson."

Damn. "Kate."

"Carson," Elizabeth said from within, her voice deceptively neutral. "Please come in and have a seat."

He slipped in, mentally closing the door behind him. Sliding into the seat, he kept his own expression neutral. "I won'na keep Rodney restrained."

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly and she glanced down briefly. "Why don't we discuss this? Kate just gave me a complete report about her first session with Rodney, but it seems that you may have a differing opinion on the matter."

"Aye, I do. And for the record, I don'na appreciate being threatened in my own infirmary."

Her eyebrow rose, lips pursing. "I seem to be missing some…details. Would you care to elaborate?"

"When I disagreed with her care, she noted that technically I'm also still supposed to be seeing her. She more or less threatened to take me off active duty."

"Was her statement inaccurate?"

"All her bloody statements were inaccurate." He took another deep breath. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Rodney is not an average suicide patient. I just spent the last hour sitting with him talking. He's doubting himself, and is a bit scared and hesitant, but he's not a danger to himself. I'm not suggesting we remove the guard, but he does'na need the restraints on top of that. In fact, given how desperate he was to have them off yesterday, it's my opinion that leaving them on will only hinder his recovery."

"Carson, I understand your concern and your…personal connection to Rodney. But right now, we need to focus on what's best for him—personal feelings and concerns aside."

"Personal feelings aside, I've dealt with trauma and suicide patients. Rodney is a trauma case, and he's displaying none of the symptoms that would suggest a desire to make another attempt on his own life. Kate wants to stick to standard protocols for suicide cases, but that does'na apply to Rodney. His is a unique situation, and it is my professional opinion that his care needs to be tailored to him. I'm not saying he does'na need counseling, I'm saying he does'na need to be strapped to a bed to receive it. He just spent the better part of a month as someone's bloody slave, unable to control his own actions or reactions. Now we want to strip the element of control from him again. I disagree strongly with that course of action."

She paused, leaning forward to plant her elbows on her desk. "From my perspective, both you and Kate have valid points." She held up her hand, forestalling his immediate comment. "I'm not a medical professional, and I'd prefer to defer to professionals in instances such as this. But also from my point of view, neither of you are acting as such." She paused again, tilting her head to the side. "What's the real issue, Carson?"

"Honestly, I am highly irritated that I was threatened because I disagreed with her course of care. On top of that, this never should have been brought to you—she threatened me with that as well. But setting that aside, I want what's best for Rodney. He begged me to take them off, and he was showing all the signs of the beginnings of a panic attack. Even if he agrees short term to the restraints—and I don'na think he will—odds are good I'll have to sedate him to keep him calm. It's like he's afraid to make any decisions right now and so is letting others do it for him."

"Nothing against you, Carson, but Kate is the one best able to ascertain that."

"Is she? I make those decisions every day with every patient I see. I may not offer long-term counseling, and in that Kate is far more qualified, but in judging the short-term effects I've got more practice and more training for it."

She paused again, her eyes dropping to her clasped hands, looking up only when she began to speak again. "What is it you want me to do?"

"Like I said, this never should have been brought to you. I'm only here because Kate told me she was coming here to have you override my authority and possibly remove me from duty. Rodney does need her services, but I won'na sit by and allow her to hold his hand as he skips merrily down the path of self destruction."

"Do you honestly think Kate would let Rodney do that?" Weir asked, the words heated, frustrated. She closed her mouth, her lips a thin line, and shook her head, taking a breath, before she continued a moment later her tone much calmer. "But you're here now and it has been brought to my attention, so I'll ask the question again: what do you want me to do?"

"Allow me to use my authority and judgment as chief medical officer. I'll defer to Kate on matters of therapy, and I'll try to work with her and not make snap judgments, but I want to retain my right to make the final call on things like this. That's all I'm asking."

She glanced down again, her lips pursed in thought. It took a long moment before she replied. "Based on the report Kate submitted to me and your comments, I'm not comfortable making any kind of cut and dry decision. I think you both need to work together in this matter."

He clenched his fists, but otherwise held himself as neutral as possible. "What would you like me to do?"

"Well, John needs to continue Rodney's debrief. How about both of you sit in and then decide on a course of action jointly?"

He nodded slowly. "I'll agree to that. However, if Rodney starts to show signs of distress or feels uncomfortable talking with all of us there, I'd like to suggest both Kate and myself leave, as I doubt we'll agree on which of us stays. I've already sat through part of the debrief, so I doubt Rodney will mind me being there for the rest."

"Fine. I want to see a report immediately after."

"I'll be sure you get one." He hesitated. "And am I still under orders to meet with Kate myself? Because right now I'm not sure that's a good idea, and I dislike having that held over my head to force me to obey."

Weir paused again. "She did sign off on your papers. If she didn't you would not have been able to go off-world. However, were your sessions completed?"

"As much as I'm comfortable with, yes."

"That isn't an answer. Were there follow-up sessions still outstanding?"

He shifted in his seat. "Aye, there were. But given the current…hostilities…between myself and Kate, I'm not sure we would accomplish anything productive."

"You're both professionals. Figure it out."

Opening his mouth to argue, he snapped it shut again as he thought better. Right now Rodney was the bigger concern. He could put off the sessions and deal with it later. "Fine. I'll send out a memo letting everyone know Kate will be sitting in on the rest of the debrief tomorrow, and I'll make sure you get a report from myself and Kate as soon as it's over."

"That sounds reasonable. I'll look for that report from you. If there's nothing else…"

He rose. "No, thank you. I appreciate your time, and I apologize again for having my department's dirty laundry dumped in your lap."

"It happens, Carson. Let's just move past it and get back to work."

"Aye. Have a nice rest of the evening then. I need to run by the mess to pick up some dinner for Rodney and myself. I'll chat with you tomorrow I'm sure." He headed for the door.

"Have a good night. Give my best to Rodney. I'll try and make it down later."

"He'd probably appreciate that. Thank you." Heading out, he struggled to keep his expression light and friendly as he passed people in the halls. He forced his thoughts to go to Rodney and his care, instead of dwelling, since that would only serve to make him more irate.

Some days it just felt like he couldn’t win, no matter what he did.

***

Even though Carson had given him a heads-up last night over dinner about the circus the morning's session with Kate would be, it was still a little disconcerting to have three people pile into his private room—not counting the guard still outside his door.

It was bad enough that he had to discuss it with Carson and then with Sheppard, but to talk about some of it with Kate…no matter what she did, there was no way he was going to forget she was a girl…a woman.

And there was no was she would understand—any of them would understand—what he'd been through. What was it about him? What had he done to deserve this?

Watching cautiously as they settled in—Kate pulling in a chair from the next room—Rodney played with the blanket on his lap, trying to keep calm and not give away just how uncomfortable this whole situation was.

"I don't remember signing up for group therapy," he said quietly, more to himself, but loud enough, apparently, for Carson and the colonel to hear.

Sheppard tossed an unreadable glance at Kate, then focused his attention on Rodney. "I know you don't really want to talk about this any more, but we need to finish the debrief and get all the details. I can't bring Kramer up on charges unless I have all the facts. If you need to take a break though, just let me know. We can start whenever you're ready."

"Sure, whatever," Rodney answered abruptly, bitterly, his eyes never staying in one spot for very long. He hated his wildly flailing emotions—anger to despair and guilt—and his lack of control over them. But then, this was just one of the gifts torture and rape gave that just kept on giving.

Carson settled in on his other side, so he was flanked by the two men, forcing Kate to sit near the end of the bed. She finally sat down, her pen and pad balanced on her knee. Carson's eyes caught and finally held Rodney's. "Why don't you start at the beginning, then?"

McKay glanced away, his stomach clenching. "The beginning?"

Sheppard replied, his words tight. "When did he first get hold of you? We think there was a lot you were ordered to forget in the beginning. I need to know if that was him, too, or if there was another person involved."

"Honestly, I still don't remember much…anything of the first…incident," Rodney began slowly, wringing his hands together, the blanket trapped between his fingers. "The first time I was consciously aware of his influence was after that. It was in the science lab."

"What happened?"

"It was…little things at first. He asked…told me to fix and re-write his projects. I had to stop to speak with him when he wanted something. I gave him server access with my passwords. It was at his…insistence that I demanded the ability to have private meetings."

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, his voice tight. "And while we were all trying to be so damn careful not to give you any orders, we just let him waltz on in. If I had been thinking, I would have just ordered you to ignore everyone else's orders after that first time."

"I don't think it would have mattered," Rodney finally said, his eyes dropping once again to his hands.

"Why not?"

"It was something he said to me that first time in the lab…about whose orders mattered. It triggered a…memory, I guess. He'd…claimed—for lack of a better word—me already. He'd told me, made sure I remembered one thing, that his orders overrode everyone else's." Rodney felt his face flush, rising from his collar upward. "Even if you'd given me an order to only obey you or Lorne or Beckett, I don't think I could have—at least if it conflicted with his orders."

"Damn it," Sheppard muttered. "He really was one step ahead of us the entire time. I'm sorry, Rodney. It's supposed to be my job to protect you from stuff like this. I'm sorry."

Rodney felt the need to explain, to apologize, for Sheppard's sake. "He'd probably already been through some of the files from the planet. It was like he knew exactly what to do."

"He moved a lot faster than I would have given him credit for."

"He was motivated," Rodney said, shrugging.

With a quiet sigh, Sheppard nodded. "What happened after the lab then? The next encounter?"

"There were several…most disguised under the cover of working on a project," McKay said. "During one of them he told me about his service to Ba'al and his work as a Trust agent. Everything he told me was always fell under his standing orders: Go about your daily business as if nothing was happening and do not discuss it with anyone." He paused again, swallowing thickly. "He…he used me to come up with various…scenarios. How to get off Atlantis, how to slow down Beckett's research, how to get rid of people—you, Lorne, Beckett, or anyone else…and how to keep him happy."

Rodney took a breath, pushing it out quickly, trying to get through the rest of it. "If we were alone, I had to kneel—in my office, my quarters. It didn't matter. He liked it. Ordered me not to resist, to allow him to do what he wanted, when he wanted."

"And what did he want?" Sheppard hesitated briefly. "I have to file a full report when I bring him up on charges. I hate to do this to you, but I need details."

"He wanted my obedience. And it usually involved physical violence of some type."

"I have the full medical reports from the times you came to the infirmary," Carson said quietly, compassion in his voice. "It's the times I don't have reports I need the details on. So when you were beaten into the ground, and...raped we don't really need to go into beyond confirming it was Kramer. But the other times..."

"Anything that happened to me was at his hand," Rodney said, his voice low.

"So other than those two times, what did he do?" Sheppard's voice was level, professional. These were questions he had to ask, but it didn't make it any easier. In a way it was harder because they were friends, his friends, and the things Kramer had done were personal, intimate. Rodney took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

"Too many sleepless nights to count. Object humiliation. He…he made me beg…for him to stop, for him to stay away from you. Nothing I did was ever good enough. He was always looking for more. He used me…" His words broke off, as his body shook at the memories.

Carson's hand settled on his arm. "Take your time."

"He made me come up with ways to kill you all…made me dream about them. He had me come up with ways to please him, make him happy and then he…" He took another breath, the recent memory still to close to the surface.

"My accident was'na your fault," Carson said quietly.

Rodney turned on him, eyes wide, anger rising. "I came up with the idea. Not Kramer. I thought about it, thought about the best way to get it done, to make sure you ended up in the infirmary. And it was just to save my own ass…not that it did a lot of good. I wanted him to stop hurting me, so instead I let him use me to hurt you."

"To make sure I ended up in the infirmary, not to kill me. And you did'na have a choice." Carson's voice was firm. "If it had'na been that, it would have been something else. He wanted me stopped, and he wanted you to do it. You. Are. Not. To. Blame."

"What does it matter? I did it."

"On his orders. Orders you had no choice but to obey."

"He gave me a choice," he said, the anger leaving as abruptly as it came. "And he still wasn't happy with me…with the outcome."

"Because I was still alive?"

"In part, yes."

"Rodney," Sheppard jumped back into the conversation. "What happened?"

"I was apparently still thinking too much on my own. He used the Goa'uld device…and then…that was the night he…" He took a shuddering breath, the last few words a whisper. "He ordered me to enjoy it."

Carson's grip tightened a bit. "Enjoy it?"

Rodney nodded miserably, the words equally quiet and subdued. "He thought that he wasn't getting anywhere with the pain. He felt he'd get through to me better with…something else. I…I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. He made me…"

"Jesus Christ. I'm going to fucking kill him." Sheppard had half risen from his chair.

"I just wanted it to stop," Rodney mumbled, his body shaking. "I begged him to stop. Promised him anything he wanted. Agreed to anything he wanted. I…" The last words ended in a choked-off sob.

Sheppard's hand joined Carson's gripping his other arm. "You didn't have a choice. You were fucking tortured, and the method doesn't matter. You didn't have a choice."

"I tried. I tried…"

"He wasn't going to stop. It didn't matter what you did, or how hard you resisted. His goal was to break you, and he was going to keep pushing until he found a way to do it." Sheppard's voice was hard, angry.

McKay glanced up, his eyes wide. "And he did." He paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Can we be done? I really need to be done."

"He's going to pay for it. For every damn time he put his hands on you, for everything he did. He's going to pay for it." The colonel let go, pacing the room, his movements jerky with anger.

Carson reached out and forced Rodney to look at him. “He might have broken your will temporarily, but he did'na break your spirit. You managed to find a way around him with the gate program. You’re still here, alive. And that’s what we’re here for—we’re going to put you back together if you’ll let us.”

Rodney chuckled briefly, humorlessly. "Not sure if there's anything left."

"I am. You told me before that you trusted me. Has that changed at all between yesterday and now?"

McKay shook his head, not sure how steady his voice would be.

"Then trust me that there's plenty left to save. Right now, it's all raw and fresh. It will get better, I promise."

McKay wrapped his arms around his body, shivering a little, wishing he could just curl up and hide somewhere and make everything go away. What had he done to deserve this? What had he done?

He could feel Beckett's eyes on him even before the Scot spoke. "Why don't we call a halt to this for now. You need a break."

Rodney nodded again, just as Kate perked up. "I have a few questions I'd like to ask if you're up for it."

McKay lifted his head, catching the look Carson sent her way, watching as Beckett's jaw tightened. Carson answered for him. "Can it wait a bit?"

"We're all here now."

"Aye, and you of all people know that in particularly intense sessions, people need to take breaks. I'm calling for one now."

Kate opened her mouth to comment, but quickly shut it, her lips thinning as she rose to her feet. "I'll be in your office writing my preliminary report of this session," she said, striding out of the room a moment later.

Beckett watched her go, glaring. "Now she's usurping my office, too?"

"Carson?" Rodney's whispered question caught his attention even as his eyes bounced from the two men in the room and the door Kate had vanished through.

"Don't worry about her," he said, turning back to Rodney. "We're just having a bit of a disagreement right now."

"Are we done? Please tell me we're done." He knew his voice was weak, pleading, and he hated it, hated himself, what he'd become.

"We're done." Beckett's voice held a note of finality. "Can I get you anything, or do you want to try and rest a bit?"

Sheppard moved back to the bed. “I’ve got enough for now. If I need more, I’ll let you know. Just get some rest, okay?”

Rodney nodded, letting Sheppard and Beckett ease him back down onto the bed, wishing he would stop shivering, shuddering. God, he hated himself, his reactions.

"Just relax." Carson had slipped back into the soothing voice. "This is why we're doing it only so much as you can handle at a time. It will take some time for the strength of the reactions to fade. That's perfectly normal."

Had he said that out loud? God, he was tired, exhausted. When had talking taken so much out of him? Sheppard patted him arm and headed quietly for the door, leaving him with Carson.

"Close your eyes and get some rest. I'll be nearby when you wake up. One of the nurses will be checking on you regularly and will come get me if I'm not here. Edwards will be over in the corner with you until one of us comes back."

"Thanks," he whispered even as panic rose when Carson turned to leave. "Can you…can you stay for a bit?"

Pausing, the doctor turned and moved back to his chair, sitting down. "I'll stay until you're asleep. How's that?"

"Good….good," he said nodding, more to himself than to Carson, his body relaxing a bit, his breath coming out in a long sigh.

Carson smiled softly at him. "Close your eyes now. It's been a long day, and you're still not back to full health." He put his hand back on Rodney's arm, resting there lightly.

"It's only morning," he protested weakly, but his eyelids were already heavy.

"That makes no difference whatsoever. If your body needs sleep, it needs sleep. When you wake up again, depending on the time, we can try a bit more solid food."

"Food would be good," he said with a yawn, his eyes tearing. Rubbing them with his fist, they stayed closed this time, his hand dropping to rest next to him on the pillow. As he drifted off to sleep, he could hear Carson shifting in the chair, feel his hand on his arm, the warmth spreading, allowing him to sleep.

***

It didn’t take long for Rodney’s breathing to even out, the stress and pain lines around his eyes easing away as sleep overtook him. Carson sat with him a few more minutes, making sure he wouldn’t wake.

When he finally rose, Carson caught Anne walking by, and directed her to go sit with Rodney for a bit. He didn’t want the scientist to be or feel alone right now.

Beckett finally allowed himself to glance at his office door, knowing by the last look he had been graced with that he was going to have another confrontation with the resident psychologist. Bloody hell.

Squaring his shoulders, he walked in. Pushing aside the annoyance that rose when he saw her sitting in his chair, he dropped down into the guest seat and waited for what he knew was coming.

"So what was that exactly?" she asked without lifting her eyes from the computer screen.

"What was what?"

"Whatever you call that…performance in there."

He swallowed down the harsh words that rose to the surface. "To what are you referring? Rodney gave us as much of the debrief as he was able, and he just passed out from exhaustion. He still has'na recovered his strength or stamina and can'na do intense sessions like that for long. Would that be the performance you're talking about? The one where I'm a doctor treating a patient?" Okay, so maybe he didn't swallow hard enough.

She glanced up, her eyes hard. "What I'm saying is that was the furthest thing from a therapy session as I've had the privilege to attend. You and Sheppard stumbled around…did you get what you needed? And here I thought you actually might be concerned about his health."

"It was'na a therapy session. It was a debrief. John needs the information to bring full charges against Kramer. Rodney is well aware of what a debrief is, and why it's necessary, which is why he agreed to it. Were you planning to force him to talk about how being raped made him feel? How having his ability to control his own actions and reactions taken away effects his emotions? Maybe once it's less raw you can have that conversation, but right now it's all he can do to talk about the bare facts."

"That's what therapy is."

"If that's all you want then you can get it when he's strong enough to do it with you. Right now he's not."

Her mouth settled into a frown. "Are you and Colonel Sheppard finished with the debrief?"

"For now. If John needs more, he can come back tomorrow. Rodney fell asleep as soon as everyone else left, and I intend to let him stay that way for the time being. He lost a lot of blood, and rest is the best form of recovery he can engage in right now physically."

"I'd like to speak with Rodney later today."

"When he wakes up, I'll ask him if he's up for it."

"Fine." She gritted her teeth, turning back to the laptop.

"You are aware that you are sitting in my chair, at my desk, using my laptop, correct? All of which means I can'na actually write my own report at the moment."

She glanced up momentarily. "This won't take me long."

"Kate, I'm trying very hard to keep this professional, but right now, I'd like to use my own office. Like it or not, we are never going to agree on Rodney's current course of care, and I'll be damned if I am going to leave _my own office_ so you can file your version of events. I'd appreciate it if you could leave now."

Her expression hardened as her fingers continued to type. "Fine. I'll need to email the document to myself."

"Go right ahead."

It took her a few minutes before she finally rose. "Thanks for the use of your office, Carson. Much appreciated."

He rose as well, giving a short, ironic bow. "My pleasure."

"And don't think I've forgotten about your own sessions," she threw over her shoulder as she moved out into the main infirmary.

"Right, because at the moment I'm sure we'd both get quite a bit out of them." He let his sarcasm come to the surface. He was beginning to think he was spending too much time with Rodney off duty—he was starting to talk like him.

She paused, the muscles in her back tightening before she turned, her professional mask in place. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that. When people are tired they let their guard down, which enables us get to the root of the problem much quicker."

"That's what stimulants are for." He couldn't help it. He gave her a cheeky grin.

"Yes, and we all know doctors and their stimulants, don't we?" Her smile was cold, her eyes hard.

His own eyes narrowed, but a quick glance around the infirmary showed everyone had stopped what they were doing and were watching the by-play with various degrees of shock. "As entertaining as this is, the middle of my infirmary is not really the appropriate place."

"No. My office would be better."

"Perhaps another day." He gave her as close to a polite nod as he was able and moved back into his office, dropping into his chair. God that woman drove him nuts.

A knock on his door nearly made him jump. "Doctor?"

"Aye?" He ran a hand across his eyes, not looking up.

"It's Doctor McKay. He's restless and I can't seem to calm him."

He rose quickly and followed Anne back to Rodney's private room. The man wasn't awake, but he was thrashing a bit. Laying a hand on his arm, he shook him lightly. "Rodney?"

The scientist jumped, his hand swinging, nearly hitting him in the face.

He managed to duck, and shook Rodney a little harder. "Rodney, wake up. It's Carson, and you're safe in the infirmary!"

It took several shakes before Rodney woke, sweat plastering his hair to his head, beading along his hairline. "Wha—"

"You were having a nightmare." Carson looked up and saw Anne hovering. "Lass, can you get a cool cloth?"

"Right away." She moved off quickly.

He turned back to Rodney, carefully getting the bedding untangled from around him. "Bad?"

He nodded miserably. "Kramer…"

"It's all right. You're safe. He's locked away, and you no longer have the compulsion to obey any orders anyone gives you."

"I was back there…in my quarters…" Rodney eyes closed and she shuddered visibly, swallowing thickly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

McKay shook his head, the question he finally managed to get out painful, full of uncertainty, and vulnerability. "I…why me?"

Carson gave him a long look. "Why did Kramer choose you, or why was it your genetic code re-written in the first place?"

Rodney shrugged. "Either, both."

Anne appeared at the door with a damp cloth in her hand, hesitating for a moment.

He took it from her, smiling and nodding for her to leave. Moving back to the bed, he held it out. "You have to be feeling sticky. Want to do the honors, or want me to?"

"I…I can," he said, taking it from him, staring at it for a moment before he wiped his face.

"Good." Carson sat back down. "You were only asleep for a short time, and I doubt that it was restful. So the question is, do you want to try going back to sleep, or sit and chat for a bit?"

He shrugged. "I'm tired, but awake. My heart's still pounding."

"So we'll chat for a bit. When you start to feel sleepy again, let me know." He smiled and propped his feet up on the bed. "What would you like to hear about?"

Rodney's eyes widened a bit. "You're not…not going to ask me anything else?"

"Nope. Right now, we can talk about anything you want to. Although I'm not really up on my astrophysics. So if you want to go that direction, I apologize in advance for my appalling lack of participation."

It took a moment before Rodney finally managed to form a sentence or two, but Carson shouldn't have been surprised by the questions. "How's Lorne? And Zelenka?"

"Evan is doing well. He's actually been asking to see you, but I did'na think you would be keen on company yet. He'll be up and about in no time at all. Radek is about ready to tear his hair out in chunks and can'na wait for you to come back, but he'll survive. I think half of that is just an act because he really hates administrative stuff and he doesn't want anyone getting any ideas."

"He's good at it."

"But he hates it. He's quite happy being your second in command, and doesn't want a promotion anytime soon."

"No one likes paperwork," he snorted. "I should make him do the administrative stuff anyway."

Carson chuckled. "I'd almost pay money to hear his reaction to that."

"It might be a good idea to have you on hand. He'll injure me worse than Kramer did."

"Rodney..."

"He hurt me, Carson," Rodney said, looking up, his eyes big. "I didn't think…didn't know what would happen. I was so scared. Scared of doing something wrong and somehow he'd take it out on you or John or Radek again. When Lorne found me…he knew what had happened…it was hard to miss. You could smell it, taste it…"

He wanted to reach out to his friend, but forced himself to stay still. "It was'na your fault. You were a lot braver than I think most of us could have been. You kept fighting long after I would have given up. You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I don't feel strong or brave."

"I know. But you are."

Rodney shook his head. "I'm lucky, that's all."

"You are lucky, I'll give you that. But it's more than that. Luck only takes you so far. You have depths you keep hidden from most of the world. I think that's why Kramer never could really break you, just make a few dents. He took you at face value, underestimated the strength underneath."

He shrugged again, his eyelids dropping a bit. "What's going to happen to him?"

"He'll be lucky to stay alive long enough to face charges." Carson struggled for a moment to bury his own homicidal impulses. "Most of the marines want to shoot him, and the science staff has come up with some unique and painful, and rather innovative, ways for him to die. But John has posted guards, and the plan is to ship him back to Earth. As a Trust agent, he has a lot of potentially useful information, and the SGC is better equipped to…coax…it out of him."

"If he goes to Earth, he'll be gone in ten seconds flat."

"John told them about the plan to beam you both out, and he's made it clear to Landry that he won't give Kramer over into SGC custody until they can assure him that won't happen."

"He's too well connected. Landry can't make that kind of a promise."

"As I understand it, the beaming technology needs something to lock on to. General O'Neill has a few of his Asgard friends working on a way to scramble it. If that works, they can just attach it to Kramer and make sure no one can grab him that way."

"Maybe."

"In any case, that won't happen for a while yet. He's in Steve's old cell, and that's where he'll stay for the time being."

Rodney nodded, yawning again. "Until something happens you mean."

"He's not getting out of there. They don'na even lower the shields to feed him, just open a small hole. Well, part of that is because quite a few of the Marines are sharpshooters and don'na need much of a window. But it's also to make sure he does'na go anywhere. And you're getting sleepy again."

"I hope you're right," he said, absently rubbing his face with his free hand, the other still wrapped around the damp cloth.

Carson finally dropped his legs off the bed and stood up, taking the cloth back. "Lie back down, Rodney. And I am right. You're safe here. There is no way he can get out. And even if he did, there are people lurking in the hallways pretty much day and night hoping he will so they can get rid of him without being brought up on charges. You've managed to make a lot of friends here who are very, very angry at what he did."

He obeyed, pulling up the blankets again. "Sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

He ducked his head, red appearing on his cheeks. A wide yawn quickly followed.

Chuckling, Carson patted his arm and sat back down. "Go back to sleep. I'll stay here until you do."

Rodney's eyes closed, his breathing evening out several minutes later.

Carson watched him sleep for a while, running a hand across his own eyes. He wasn't sleeping well himself, and there was still lingering pain he was keeping carefully hidden. Making a quick decision, he had one of the nurses pull an extra bed in next to Rodney's and swung himself up into it. It was the middle of the morning, but a quick nap wouldn't hurt. He could write his report later.

***

It took another two days before Rodney began to feel something close to normal. He'd managed to graduate to solid food—albeit bland and unappetizing—and was spending more and more time awake. But that also meant that he had more time to think to dwell on everything that had happened.

And no matter which way he turned it, everything always came back to him. Yes, Kramer ordered him to do things, but most of it had been situations and scenarios that he came up with.

And what did it say about him that he could think of, dream of, so many different ways to beat, and maim, injure, and kill his friends? And then there was the assault…sexual assault. Everything Kramer had done to him had only been what Rodney had told him, had thought about.

And even begging Kramer to stop, that he didn't want it, his body had reacted, taking pleasure from it, from everything Kramer had done that night.

What did that mean for him? Had these desires always been there? And why now? And why him? What had he done to deserve it, to merit that type of attention?

Kate had stopped by several times—usually quickly ushered back out of his room by one of Carson's nurses several minutes later. It was like they were trying to shield him from the woman—not that he minded, but sooner or later he was going to have to talk to her. He knew that. After this kind of an event…series of events, there was no way he was going to be able to get back to work without some type of complete mental evaluation.

Not that he blamed them, really.

He'd tried sneaking out for a walk earlier this morning, only to discover one silent and brooding Marine at his door. One look and Rodney was back in bed, scowling at the soldier and annoyed with his own reluctance to argue about it.

Carson wandered in a few minutes later, chart in hand. "I hear you tried to make a break for it."

Rodney scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm bored."

"That's a good sign you're getting better, but you aren't up to full speed yet."

"Wouldn't I be the best one to know how I'm doing? You won't even let me have my laptop."

Chuckling, Carson pulled an arm free so he could take his pulse. "I know you, Rodney. If I give you a laptop, you won't actually rest."

"I'm tired of resting," he whined, trying to pull the arm back, but Carson had a firm grip.

"Your pulse is still off, and while you are eating solid food, you aren't doing it as often or as much as I would like. I'm not releasing you until I'm satisfied you aren't going to collapse an hour later."

"It's not my fault I'm not hungry. Maybe if you gave me something interesting to eat I'd eat more."

"Maybe if you didn't turn green anytime the smell of something more interesting than bland toast wafted by, I would."

Rodney finally managed to get his hand free, shoving back into place as he crossed his arms and scowled. "I do not."

Leaning his hip against the bed, Carson looked him over. "All right, what would you like to try then? I'll have it sent up for you, and if you can hold it down, I'll start giving you more regular food. No coffee, however."

Rodney glanced away. "I'm not hungry."

"Of course not." The doctor sighed and then cut his eyes away slightly. "Kate is scheduled to be here again in a bit. She went over my head again and got Elizabeth to authorize a private session with her."

His frown deepened. "Since when does Elizabeth decide medical care now?"

Anger flashed across Carson's face before his expressions settled back into bland. "Since Kate decided to go over my head. At the moment, she is apparently presenting better arguments than I am."

"And I have no say in it? It's my head she's trying to shrink."

"Feel free to tell her anything you want. Seeing as how I don't have a formal degree in psychology, I've been overruled. It does'na help that I technically am supposed to be seeing her myself, and I've been putting it off. Elizabeth is choosing to take that as me being unfit to make a determination on the subject rather than a fierce desire not to get myself thrown in the brig for throttling the therapist."

"I have no plans on telling her anything," Rodney replied, looking carefully at his friend, noting the dark circles under his eyes, filing away the tidbit of information the Scot had shared for later.

"That's entirely up to you. Unfortunately I can'na stall her any longer, and I wanted to give you the heads up. She gets an hour, during which I can'na interfere unless you start to have medical problems. You can use the call button if that happens and you need me."

"Sorry. I don't think I can code on command."

"Aye, thank God for that. You should'na need it, but I wanted to let you know just in case." He glanced at his watch. "She'll actually be here fairly soon, so I'll keep you company until then."

Carson settled into the chair next to the bed, the metal squeaking a little as he shifted. Rodney stared at him for a long moment before turning away. God, he hated this. What was he supposed to say? He still felt like he owed the man an apology—even though he'd given him several. He didn't think it would ever be enough.

He straightened the blankets over his lap, the silence in the room thick and uncomfortable.

"All right, I'm getting a little tired of getting odd looks. What exactly is wrong, Rodney? You keep staring at me."

He looked at his friend again, before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "You look horrible."

Carson blinked. "I'm fine, actually. A little behind on my sleep maybe, but you don't need to worry about me."

"Who said I was worried."

"Well, if you are'na worried, why do you keep staring at me?"

"What else do you want me to do, stare at the walls? Oh wait, that's what I've been doing because someone won't let me do anything else." Rodney's tone was a little sharp, a little bitter.

Wincing, Carson nodded. "I deserved that I suppose. All right, how about a compromise? I'll give you a non-networked laptop to keep yourself occupied, and if you continue to improve at this rate, I'll authorize short field trips from this room starting tomorrow. You'll still have to stay with someone, of course. But if you wanted to have them take you up to the labs to say hello, or even just out to one of the balconies for some fresh air, we can probably arrange that."

"Tomorrow?"

"If you continue to show no signs of medical back-sliding. And they will be short, as in a half-hour at a time to begin with. I'm not releasing you. I'm just letting you get some fresh air and a bit of a change in scenery."

"I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter."

"At the moment the babysitter is the only thing standing between you and being strapped to the bed. All in all, it's a better option."

Rodney scowled. "I'm fine."

Carson shrugged. "In that regard, aye, I think you are. But that's the compromise Kate and I came to for the moment. Physically, however, you are not fine, and won't be for a little bit longer."

"Whatever happened to bedside manner?" he asked, the anger that was just under the surface starting to poke through.

"What do you want me to say, Rodney? I'm not comfortable releasing you yet from a purely medical standpoint. I've been overruled regarding your current mental health, so there's not a whole lot I can do about that. What do you want me to tell you?"

"Something that actually makes sense would be a good place to start."

"What doesn't make sense? You aren't medically ready to be released. However, I know how restless you are so I'm willing to authorize a few short trips outside the infirmary with a nurse to let you get some fresh air."

"Oh yeah, joy," Rodney said rolling his eyes as he turned away.

He heard Carson sigh, then heard the sound of the chair moving as the doctor rose. "Kate should be here soon. If you need anything, let me or one of the nurses know. For dinner tonight, if you're feeling up to it, I'll have something less bland brought in for you to try."

"Fine," Rodney said, leaning back, letting the raised bed support him.

"I'll be back later this afternoon to see you. Enjoy your chat."

McKay glanced over at the doctor, his tone dry, bitter. "Oh yeah. I'm sure it will be a pip."

"At least try not to piss her off too much. Right now she's all that stands between you and unsupervised time to yourself."

"You think I'd piss her off?"

"Aye, just for the entertainment value."

He rolled his eyes again. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"I'm a doctor, not a sports coach. I don'na give pep talks. And you're a special case anyway. If I tried to be peppy with you, I'd cease to have hot water in my showers the minute you got released."

"Yeah, yeah. And for your information, I'm not in charge of the hot water on Atlantis. Apparently Doctor Weir knows me too well." He paused, the feeling of being trapped in the infirmary growing. "You should probably go and play with your sheep entrails or something since you're going to have to write your updated report on my progress. Can't turn that in late, can you?"

Carson looked at him closely. "Look, just play nice with the therapist, and eat your dinner tonight. I'll do what I can, all right? I'd like to release you to finish recovering in your room, checking in with me a few times a day. But before I can do that, I need to get your blood pressure and blood sugar up to acceptable levels."

"They're fine. They'd be better if I wasn't in here."

"Aye, they're better than they were a few days ago, but still not really great. I'm not going to release you only to have to perform emergency procedures to start your heart again when you collapse a few hours later. Cooperate with me instead of fighting me, and we can get you out of here a lot sooner."

"I've been cooperating." His arms were crossed over his chest again, the words spit out between gritted teeth. "I'm sick and tired of your 'maybe' this and 'let's wait and see' that."

"You've been sleeping the vast majority of time, which I'd hardly call cooperating. And I can't give you hard answers, because a lot of it depends on you. If you won't eat or follow my suggestions, I'll have to hold you here longer. Not to mention you have to get a clean mental bill of health before I can even move you out of this room."

"Just…just get out," he finally said, his anger vanishing in one feel swoop leaving him tired and wrung out.

Carson paused, reaching out to squeeze his arm lightly. "This will end soon, Rodney. I promise. We'll at least get you some new scenery."

He jerked his arm back, not expecting Beckett's touch.

Carson released him as soon as he flinched, and stepped back. "I'm sorry. For all of this."

"Just go," he whispered, unable to lift his head and look at his friend.

He heard a soft sigh, and the sound of Carson's footsteps faded as he left.

Staring at the wall, just like he'd done for the past several days, Rodney let his mind drift, still trying to sort through all of the thoughts and emotions running through his head. He hated this, hated being so unsure of everything, hated being trapped in the infirmary because of well-meaning friends.

He heard Kate before she even entered the room, her voice carrying as she spoke to the guard just outside the door to his room. Her heeled shoes clicked against the floor as she strode in, moving the chair a little.

"You might as well leave now since I'm not in the mood for one of your self-proclaimed 'this is good for you' lectures."

"Doctor McKay. It's good to see you too." He heard her settle in the chair Carson had recently vacated. "Why don't you tell me what you are in the mood for?"

"Your quick departure."

"Why don't you tell me why you're upset? From all accounts, you've been feeling restless recently."

"No."

"No you aren't restless or no you don't want to tell me what has you upset?"

"I'm not upset."

"Good, then we can chat for a bit. How have you been feeling?"

He sniffed, still refusing to look at her. "I'd rather not."

"You've had a rough couple of weeks, and you and I haven't really had the opportunity to speak much about it. Why don't you tell me what's going on in your head right now?"

"Right now?" He turned, offering her one of the looks that usually sent his scientists running in the opposite direction.

"Yes, right now. That's a good place to start, wouldn't you say?"

"Right now I'm wondering how long my patience will last until I throw you bodily out of my room."

"I'm afraid that's not an option." She put a somewhat plastered-on smile on her face. "Why don't you want to talk to me?"

"Why not? I think it's a very good option right about now," he said, moving to push the blanket from his legs.

"Take another move and I'll be forced to have you restrained, Doctor McKay. I'm still not convinced you are not a danger to yourself. Quite frankly I don't think you should be unrestrained until you have been cleared."

He paused, but didn't back down. "On what grounds? You think I'm a danger to you?"

"Not to me, no. I'm worried you are a danger to yourself. And since you seen intent to try and leave the infirmary when you are obviously not yet ready, I'd say that's a fair assessment."

"I’m the best judge of whether I'm ready or not," he said, growling, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet dangling in mid-air.

"No, as a matter of fact, individuals are usually the worst judge of what they are capable of when it comes to both mental and physical care. They either over or underestimate their abilities. All I want to do here is talk, Doctor McKay."

"And gee whiz, I don't want to."

"You're going to have to eventually. You won't be cleared until I'm satisfied you are in good mental health."

"We'll see."

She shot him a mildly irritated look. "I know Doctor Beckett has been talking to you, and has done his best to prevent me from doing the same. I'm not entirely sure what he has told you, but Doctor Weir has given me co-authority over your case. You cannot be released until both myself and Doctor Beckett clear you." She paused briefly. "You've been through a lot this past month, and talking will help you work through it."

"I don't think so."

"You don't agree with which part?"

"Any of it. All of it. What does it matter? When push comes to shove and the city's about to fall down around our collective ears, your tune will change."

"It's my job to keep you healthy and sane so you can do your job of keeping the city running. If I don't do my job, you won't be able to do yours."

"I'm fine," he said, glaring at her.

"That's for me to determine, which I can't do if you won't talk to me."

"Then I guess we have a stalemate, don't we?" he said, his chin tilting upward as a smug smile grew on his face.

"I know you won't come to see me, even if you are ordered to, after you are released from the infirmary. Therefore, if you don't want to talk today, I'll reschedule for tomorrow and recommend your release be delayed. Honestly, your resistance to talk leads me to believe there is something you are trying to hide. In this particular case, I can't risk that what you are hiding is unhealthy. I'm sorry." She rose from the seat, the hand holding her notebook falling to her side. "Tomorrow, same time? We can do this every day until you're feeling 'ready to talk.'"

"Then you're going to be wasting a lot of your time because that's not going to happen," he said, watching her move away from the bed. "And look, I didn't even have to lay a hand on you to get you to leave."

She turned back, and looked him up and down. "No, but I've seen your charts. You are barely eating, and you are fighting every bit of medical treatment. It's not me I'm worried about you hurting, Doctor McKay, it's yourself. Which you're doing a fine job of."

"What part of 'I'm fine' do you just not understand? I know I'm speaking in English. Do I need to try other languages and maybe one of them will get through your thick skull?" He slid off the bed, the floor cold under his bare feet, his hands on his hips as he used all of his height to glare at her.

"You aren't fine. What part of that do you not understand? You can delude yourself, but that won't work for the rest of us. And if you don't get back into bed, I will call for the Marine to restrain you."

"Worried that I might do something?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm worried that you seem fixated at the thought of injury, yes. And that you seem to be incapable of understanding that I am not concerned for my own health. You are most definitely not 'fine', Doctor."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And what makes you think that I'm not concerned about my health? I'm fine."

"You sound like a broken record, repeating that phrase as if saying it enough times will make it true. I think you're trying hard to convince yourself it is true, when you know its not."

"I know how I feel."

"With all due respect, you don't. You aren't in a position to make any judgment calls on your own state of mental health. Not to mention, you are more than capable of telling me what you think I want to hear to secure release. I will make my final judgment based on my determination of your state, not your own."

"I'm the one in my own head, not you." He scowled at Kate.

"So let me in. Tell me what's on your mind instead of fighting me." She moved back toward the bed, raising an eyebrow in question as she nodded to the chair.

"I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm fine and I don't have any desire to talk to you."

"I'm afraid you don't have much choice. You will have to talk to me eventually in order to gain release. But I can see you are feeing—obstinate—today. We can try again tomorrow." She turned and headed back towards the door.

"Get used to disappointment."

"I'm a patient woman, Doctor McKay, and you are not known for your own wellspring of that particular virtue."

"Oh, trust me, Kate. You'd be surprised at how patient I can be."

"We'll see." She flashed him another fake smile, and walked out the door.

Rodney waited a few moments, half expecting the Marine to walk in the door. When five minutes passed and nothing happened, he climbed back on the bed, his bare feet swinging. He knew she wouldn't make good on her threat.

Now, he just needed to get himself out of the infirmary. And with his genius brain, he was sure he'd come up with something.

***

Carson pushed the almost-mashed potatoes and bright yellow carrot-like vegetables around on his plate. He had found a table in the back of the mess hall. It was a quiet time. He had come after the evening rush, so he could just sit and let himself drift. He let himself shut down for a few minutes, not really thinking about anything in particular.

After yesterday’s not so hot appointment with Rodney, Kate had felt the need to come into his office and verbally spar with him again. Today she had tried again to get Rodney to open up, but from what he heard, she hadn’t had much luck. Carson had taken the coward’s route and made sure he was otherwise occupied when she was done this time.

The semi-loud bang of a tray being dropped onto the table at the seat across from him jolted him up, and it was only quick reflexes that saved his unappetizing dinner from sailing across the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Sheppard said sarcastically as he settled into the chair.

"Colonel! I did'na see you come in. Is there a problem?" Carson sat up, all the various disaster scenarios flashing through his head in an instant.

"What the hell is up with McKay?"

"What do you mean?" He noted the soldier's posture, and let himself relax, adrenaline fading slightly. There was no emergency.

"I tried to go in and chat with him before and he wouldn't let me in."

"Wouldn't let you in? He's under guard by one of your men, and there aren't any locks on the door. How did he keep you out?"

"Why don't you ask him? I didn't feel like yelling through the door."

"He's locked himself in? Is anyone in there with him?"

"Edwards is in the hall and he's on duty right now, so I have no idea," Sheppard said, scowling as he pushed the food around on his plate.

Closing his eyes briefly, Carson considered all the courses of action. "If it was an emergency, or a real problem, someone would have contacted me. I'm sure there was something else going on. Maybe Kate was making another attempt."

"She wasn't around if that's what you're asking. Edwards was just as surprised as I was. And your radio's off."

"It is?" He reached up and pulled it out of his ear, startled to see it was off. More to himself than to Sheppard, he muttered, "No wonder it's been so bloody quiet. I must have forgotten to switch it on this morning."

"I’m glad there wasn't an emergency." The colonel's tone was dry.

He felt his ears get a bit hot. "This is the first time I've been out of the infirmary all day. If there had been, I would have been in the middle of it anyway." Flicking it on, he put it back in his ear and tapped it. "Beckett to infirmary, have you been trying to reach me?"

"Doctor?" Anne Matthews replied.

"Aye. My radio was off, and I wanted to check in."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"Anything you need me for, luv?"

"It seems Doctor McKay may have…locked himself in his room."

Carson ran a hand across his eyes and avoided looking at the soldier. "I heard. How did he manage that? Is there anyone in there with him? Has anyone talked to him?"

"It seems like the life signs detectors aren't working in this section," she said with a sigh. "So, I really don't know. I've contacted Doctor Zelenka to come and look at the door."

The fork dropped out of his hand and he was on his feet moving towards the door. "What do you mean the life signs detector is'na working in that sector? And you knew I was in the mess hall, when you could'na get me, why didn't you send someone for me?"

"The colonel was heading that way and he said he'd mention it to you."

"Aye, but he did'na mention this was a minor emergency." He sighed, startled when another hand hit the transport button before him. "Colonel? I thought you were eating dinner?"

"I could say the same for you." He paused, giving Carson a hard look. "Why are you so worked up?"

"Apparently my patient has found a way to lock a door with no lock and disable the life signs detectors in that sector of the city. That takes precedence over dinner." He paused, looking closely at Sheppard. "A better question is why aren't you worked up? There's no telling what Rodney is up to."

"I thought you said he was fine."

"That was before I was informed he was locked in a room by himself and not talking to anyone."

The stepped out into the hallway and Carson spotted the Czech engineer several paces ahead of them, already turning into the infirmary. "When was the last time you checked on him?" Sheppard asked.

He shook his head, picking up the pace a bit. "This morning. He has'na really wanted to talk to me for the last few days, so I've been keeping my distance other than monitoring him. I thought he just needed some time to think."

"Beckett," Sheppard growled, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "What the hell is going on? I'm getting mixed reports from you and Kate and no one seems able to give me a straight answer. Ronon and Teyla are also telling me that he's been moody. Well, Teyla more than Ronon."

He shrugged his arm a bit, but Sheppard wouldn't be dislodged. "Physically Rodney is improving every day. If it were up to me, I would have released him to his room to finish recovering today actually. He is refusing to talk to Kate, however, so she won't sign off on that."

"And why is that, do you think?" Sheppard's eyes flashed with anger.

"Why is what? If you want to know why he won'na talk, I don'na think I should answer that since right now I can't give an unbiased response. As to why she won't sign off..." He tried to surreptitiously shrug John off again and failed—again. "I honestly don'na think I can give you a straight answer to that either."

"I'm quickly running out of patience. Try me."

Carson looked up, flinching a bit from the anger he saw. "I'm mad, so that's going to color my perceptions when it comes to Kate right now. Rodney has never been one for talking to therapists, and now she's trying to force it out of him, using his release as blackmail of sorts. I'm sure she means well, but we grossly disagree on how Rodney's case should be handled, and she's gone over my head so there's not much I can do about it."

"And if he flew the coup, what then?"

"I don't think he's a danger to himself. I think he just needs time to think. He's restless in the infirmary—he always is when he gets to this stage of his recovery. However, there's a part of me that is, quite frankly, scared to death that I'm going to open that door and find my friend bleeding out again. I don'na really think that will happen, but..."

"Damn it, Carson! If you're worried about that why didn't you say something instead of beating around the bush? I trusted you. That's why I wasn't worried about the whole locked door. I figured it was just Rodney being Rodney. I was counting on you to handle this, to make sure something wouldn't happen and now you're telling me that you think Rodney might try to kill himself again. For Christ's sake," he said, letting go of Beckett's arm and racing into the infirmary.

Carson watched him rush away, and whispered his words at his back. "Because I don'na think he will, but that doesn't mean I haven't watched him do it every time I close my eyes." Taking a deep breath, he walked in to find Radek at the door panel, Sheppard now yelling through the door, and nurses milling all around.

Thinking for a moment, he realized the odds were good Rodney wasn’t in that room anymore. His friend was too smart to have locked the door if he wasn’t planning something. And he had been increasingly vocal about wanting to leave.

Beckett quietly turned and left the infirmary, heading to the few places he thought Rodney might have gone. If he was lucky, he could find him before the others got the door open. If not, he had a feeling there was another lecture from Elizabeth in store for abandoning the infirmary in a crisis.

Sometimes, he had to wonder at the things he did for friendship.

***

It hadn't taken that much time or energy to figure out a way to get himself out of the infirmary. McKay figured the locked door would give him quite a head start as they tried to break into the room he had vacated.

He was surprised how much time it gave him.

Ducking out shortly after his last "session" with Kate—when the Marine had slipped away to the men's room—Rodney managed to get out of the infirmary through one of the rear doors. It certainly helped that he knew where all those hidden exits were.

Feeling conspicuous in his infirmary scrubs and bare feet, he'd grabbed some clothes from Carson's secret stash in the rear storage room before he left. It also helped to know where the man kept the extra supplies, but it disturbed him greatly that Beckett kept uniforms in both his and Sheppard's sizes back there.

Rodney changed in a seldom-used public bathroom somewhere between the infirmary and the science labs, leaving the scrubs in the back corner of the far stall. He was still shoe-less, but the thick socks helped to keep his feet warm. If he was brave, he might swing into his quarters, but he didn't know how much time he had before the dogs were sent out.

After a brief stop at the secondary control room to pull the life signs detectors offline—and to hide his tracks—he started walking, beginning to feel almost like a normal human.

Several hours later, he found himself out near the East Pier, the warm ocean breeze ruffling his hair as the doors opened. He stepped out, his eyes drifting around the area—pausing at the crates along the side and shivering—before he headed to the end. He settled down with his back to one of the smaller structures, and took out one of the PowerBars he'd stuffed in his pocket when he'd left the infirmary. He would have liked water or coffee, but that would have meant a trip to the mess and that was currently out of the question.

He sat, watching the waves break against the side of Atlantis, feeling some of the tension slowly fade. The colors of the setting sun were bold and bright, the light reflecting off the water, casting a faint hue on the grey metal surrounding him.

He turned his face upward, closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of wind on his skin. He'd missed this with being cooped up in Atlantis for the last month.

But the silence and solitude gave him time to think. He hated his reactions to everything going on. His moods. His seemingly out of control emotions that ranged from depressed to irate at the slightest provocation. He hated it, hated himself, hate what he'd become, hated what had happened, hated that his friends had stood by and watched as Kramer took his soul piece by piece until he gave the last morsel freely, willingly.

He wanted to rant, to scream at the sheer unfairness of the universe, but he knew it would be a waste of energy. A waste. Just like he'd become.

Kate wanted to talk, wanted him to tell her how he felt. He felt used. Violated. Alone. His friends had watched as Kramer used and abused him and they weren't able to do anything to stop him. Yes, they'd tried to guard him. Tried to watch him every step of the way, but it didn't matter. Hadn't made one ounce of difference. Kramer had been one step ahead of them the entire time.

And now Carson, Sheppard, and Weir looked at him with pity in their eyes.

He didn't want their pity. He just wanted his life the way it had been before this whole goddamn accident happened.

Was that too much to ask?

It wasn't until much later that he heard footsteps. Staying still, he prayed for them to go away, hoping that the shadows hid him enough.

Whoever it was leaned against the railing nearby, but didn't come any closer. He heard the soft brogue that identified the visitor, spoken softly into the night. "Ah, Rodney, where have you gotten to? I can'na stall them much longer."

Rodney held his breath, knowing that once Carson's eyes adjusted to the darkness all he had to do was turn this way and the doctor would spot him. He wasn't really hiding. Actually, there was no real place to hide out here. It was sheer luck Beckett hadn't spotted him already. The dark grey of the science uniform was apparently good for hiding from doctors.

Carson moved suddenly, his hand touching his radio. "Aye, Beckett here." He paused, still staring out at the sea. "I'm looking for him now. I had a feeling he wouldn't be there. Rodney's too clever for that. I'll let you know if I find him." There was another, longer pause. "Colonel, yelling at me is'na going to solve anything or get him found any faster. I'll let you know what I find. Beckett out." He reached up and took the radio off his head and slipped it into his pocket, leaning heavily against the rail.

Rodney held back the laugh that threatened when he heard Carson's words. Yes, he was too clever for them. He'd always been good at hide and seek when he was a kid, although he rarely had friends to play with. And then, when the neighborhood kids finally played with him he always hid so well they'd give up on finding him.

He knew once Sheppard started with search teams they wouldn't stop until the found him, but this was different. It wasn't a fun game, a way to pass the time. No, this was because they were worried that he might do something to himself or someone else. It was a matter of self-preservation on their part, the CYA of the Pegasus galaxy. Can't afford to lose your genius.

Beckett stood there for another few minutes before sighing again and pulling out his radio to put it back in place. He turned and headed back inside, leaving Rodney alone with his thoughts and the cool night breeze. It was only a matter of time before Zelenka figured out how to get the internal life signs sensors back online and they'd track him down.

Shivering slightly, he finally got up, his sock-clad feet chilled against the cold metal decking. Padding into the city, he headed to the one of the nearby living quarters in this section of the city, knowing that there were a few beds the Ancients had left behind that he could use to sleep.

A few levels up, he found the room he'd remembered, overlooking the water. The moon shined brightly in, illuminating every surface, making it look like it was glowing.

Shaking out the blanket on the bed, Rodney settled down, lying on his stomach, his arms stretched out at his side. His eyes slowly closed as he drifted off to one of the first dreamless nights since the incident with Kramer.

He wasn't sure what surprised him more when he finally woke: the bright overhead lights or the Marine with a knee in his back, holding him firmly in place while another stood over him, his weapon drawn.

"What the—" he mumbled, only to break off when the Marine with the gun narrowed his eyes. Damn. Sheppard had to be a tad bit angry if he was getting this kind of treatment.

The other soldier holding him to the bed, quickly checked him over, his fingers rough against his skin as he pushed the blankets away, pulling up the sleeves of the BDU jacket to get a visual of his wrists—the white bandages still in place and unmarred. The small of his back and his legs were checked in a move usually used on escaped prisoners who might be hiding guns or weapons.

Apparently, the Marine was convinced everything was in order because Rodney quickly found himself hauled upright, his hands pulled behind his back, a zip tie cuff holding them in place.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he finally managed to ask, his confusion settling into anger.

"Following orders, Doctor McKay. We were told to search you, restrain you, and bring you down to the infirmary as soon as we located you."

"I'm not a convinced felon," he said, trying to get some purchase on the floor, but his sock-clad feet kept slipping. "What do you think you're doing manhandling me like this?"

"Following orders. I'm sorry, sir, but Colonel Sheppard was pretty specific. If you'll come with me, I've alerted him that we have you. He's waiting in the infirmary."

"I don't want to go there. If I wanted to be there, don’t you think I'd actually…be there already?"

"Sorry, sir. I'm afraid you don't have a choice." The Marines began hauling him out the door.

"What's with the cuffs?" he finally asked, resigning himself to the fact that he had no control over his current condition. There was no way he could actually get away from heavily-armed Marines—even with his hands free.

"Colonel Sheppard wanted to be sure you didn't…tamper…with anything else along the way. It took Doctor Zelenka several hours to reverse what you did with the LSDs, so I think he wants to make sure he has a chance to chat with you before you try anything else."

He scowled at the one on his right—the only one actually answering his questions. "I was sleeping. How can sleeping be misconstrued as tampering with anything? Besides, what exactly did he think I could do with your two goons hanging onto my arms?"

"You'll have to ask him that, sir. All I can tell you is that he was pretty insistent. I've never seen him this angry before."

"Wait a minute!" Rodney exclaimed, his feet sliding in the floor as he tried to stop, only to be hauled along by the Marines. "And you think this is a good idea?"

"Considering he was pretty insistent you be checked for injuries, I don't think you have anything to worry about, sir."

"Sure," he muttered as they stepped into the transporter. A few seconds later they were stepping out in the hall adjacent to the infirmary.

Sheppard was around the corner as soon as they stepped out. "Where the _hell_ have you been?"

"Out." Rodney held up his chin, refusing to be intimidated by the colonel.

"Out? I've spent the last twelve hours worrying you were dead somewhere and you were OUT?" Sheppard turned around and yelled curses at the wall.

Rodney felt stupid standing there between the two Marines in his socks, but he had no intention of backing down. "How long did it take you to figure out I gone?"

"Until Zelenka got the goddamn door open! What the hell did you do to it? And how did you short out the life signs detectors in the whole city?" Turning, the colonel was now standing face-to-face with Rodney. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

Rodney shrugged as best he could with two Marines hanging onto him. "It was pretty easy actually. And it should have been a quick fix. Both for the door and the LSD."

Sheppard took several deep breaths, then looked up at the Marines. "Get the cuffs off him and get him into bed. You don't leave his side, until I say otherwise."

"Oh, I'm not getting a bed in the brig? With this treatment that's what I was expecting."

"Don't push your luck. I considered it."

"Yeah…well…" Rodney said, finally breaking off as one of the Marines cut off the cuffs, allowing him to pull his arms forward, rubbing some feeling back into his hands.

"Beckett!" Sheppard actually bellowed. "Get your ass in here and make sure our escape artist is healthy before I shoot him."

"Temper, temper," Rodney muttered, rolling his eyes as the Marines led him to one of the closest medical beds, helping him up. They finally let go of his arms but settled on either side of him, barely a foot away.

Sheppard growled at him, but didn’t get a chance to say anything before Carson came around the corner.

“Well, I see our prodigal has returned. We can call off the milk carton production now, I suppose.” Beckett was leaving a wide berth between himself and the fuming soldier as he moved to Rodney’s side.

"I’m glad you told the search parties to make sure I didn't slit my wrists again," he hissed as soon as Carson got close enough.

"I did'na tell them a thing. You can thank the colonel for all those orders."

"Well, I can see that we're all one big happy family," McKay snorted sarcastically. "Great to see all of that trust we have between us."

Carson looked a bit guilty. "I'm sorry about all this. I tried to find you first when I realized Colonel Sheppard was a little…upset. I may be the cause of that. When I was first told you were locked in, I might have overreacted a bit, and the colonel happened to be there. Unfortunately, while I calmed down, he just got angry."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "And I'm fine, by the way. No bruises, no bumps, no nothing."

"Aye, I knew you were just itching to be released." Beckett finished the quick exam, and stepped back slightly, looking a bit apprehensive. "And now for the bad news. Elizabeth has asked me to give Lindsay Biro your case for the immediate future. I'm a bit too involved, so Kate and Lindsay will collaborate on your care."

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, moving to slide off the bed, only to be stopped by one of the Marines. Damn, they gripped hard.

Carson shot the Marines an annoyed glance and then looked over at where Sheppard was still pacing and muttering to himself. "Look, as this little jaunt has proven, you're actually physically ready to be released. Lindsay knows how I feel about it, and she'll do her best to persuade Kate to sign off on at least getting you out of the infirmary. Just don't pull any more disappearing acts, okay?"

"Then maybe someone needs to actually listen to me when I tell them something."

The infirmary door opened again, and Elizabeth walked in. "Rodney! It's good to see you're okay. You had us worried." She smiled as she made her way over.

"I'm fine," he growled, scowling at the men at his side, before his eyes slid to Elizabeth. "And thanks for the vote off confidence, sending out the Marines."

Elizabeth cut her eyes to John. "Colonel Sheppard was a bit…irritated. I thought giving him something constructive to do was in everyone's best interest. After this though, I'm going to take him off active duty for a day or two. I think he needs some time off."

"Constructive? Sending out heavily-armed Marines with orders to restrain me and bring me to the infirmary is constructive?" His arms were waving and his voice rising, but he didn't care. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't realize he had gone quite that far. I'm sorry. In the meantime, what exactly were _you_ thinking?" She sighed. "We were all very worried."

"I was thinking that I needed to get out of the cage, Elizabeth. That's what I was thinking. And as I keep telling everyone, I'm fine. Perfectly fine." The last few words were forced out through gritted teeth.

"I've been keeping track of what's going on. I'm sure you can see where my concern is though. Other than the debrief, you've refused to talk to anyone about what happened."

"So you're an expert now?" Rodney's eyebrow rose as his tone turned bitter, the volume slowly increasing. He didn't care that everyone was listening either. At this point, he had nothing to lose. "Would you care to show me your degree in psychology or perhaps in the medical sciences? What the hell do you know about anything that's going on? You weren't there! You were standing on the sidelines, just like everyone else, watching and waiting and armchair quarterbacking, giving orders and demands like you knew what was going on. Did it work out the way you wanted? Is this what you expected?"

Her eyes flickered, but she was too good of a diplomat to give much away. "Actually, that's why I sent in Kate Heightmeyer—she does have a degree in psychology, and she has some serious concerns. I have to give those as much weight as I give your own claims, Rodney."

McKay rolled his eyes, his anger clear on his face, in his body. "Go back to your little glass office in the tower. You'll stay cleaner there, Elizabeth. No need for you to…mess around down here with the plebs."

"You're tired, and understandably upset. You've had a rough time these last few weeks. Get some rest, and I'll come by in the morning. We can talk then, when you aren't so angry."

"Oh, yes," he said to her parting back, "ever the doctor, aren't you? You think sleep and rest will solve all of your problems, don't you? Do you still believe in the Easter Bunny, too?" He paused, a smug grin on his face. "So, what would your dear Simon think of all this?"

Elizabeth paused, her back tightening, but she continued walking, refusing to turn around.

"Rodney." Carson, who was still standing nearby, pitched his voice quietly, but it held a note of command the doctor seldom used. "Stop."

"Why?" He turned his eyes on Beckett, sending a glare his way.

"Don't take out your frustration on Elizabeth. If you need someone to target, to hit with low blows and drag down with you, use me. She does'na deserve it, and you know it."

"And I didn't deserve this but it doesn't change things, does it? And who are you to talk anyway? Kate'll be on your ass soon enough."

Carson flinched but didn't back down. "No, you did'na deserve any of this. But right now you're letting your anger with the situation control you. You're lashing out with the blows you know will hurt the most. Do you really want to become what you've just spent the last month fighting against?"

"What does it matter?" he said bitterly. "There's no way in hell I'm talking to Kate so you're going to be stuck with me for the foreseeable future. And don't think this will be my last escape attempt."

"If I exercise my authority as CMO and release you tonight, will you promise me you'll check in after breakfast tomorrow? And won't disappear again? I know how hard this is for you, and quite frankly I'd rather you were recovering where you are most comfortable anyway. But I won't do it if you're going to go AWOL again as soon as my back is turned."

"I didn't think you had that option," he said snidely. "I thought Biro was in charge of me medically because you've become too 'close'," McKay's fingers formed air quotes around the word,  "to the case."

Carson ran a hand through his hair. "Which is true. And I will catch hell for it as soon as word gets out. But by then you will be sleeping in your room, with these nice Marines discouraging interruptions until tomorrow morning. I'm trying to work with you here, Rodney."

"And if you hadn't noticed, I’m not in the mood." He pointed to where Sheppard had moved off to, still listening, but not directly in the room. "I was sleeping fine until Colonel I-have-to-have-my-way hauled me out of bed and dragged me down here like I was some kind of felon. Excuse me if I find this while situation and your promises a little too late in coming."

"You were sleeping after disappearing for hours and rigging the city to help you do it, with no one knowing where you were or whether you were all right or not. This is a little different."

"Do what you want. You will anyway."

Carson just closed his eyes. "Tell me what you want me to do. What are you looking for here?"

"For everyone to leave me alone."

"Is that not what I just offered, at least for tonight? I can'na promise everyone will stay away for the rest of your natural life, but I can give you tonight. Why are you fighting me when that's what you want?"

"Fine," McKay said, managing to slide from the bed before one of the Marine's latched onto his arm. "If we're done here, I'd like to leave."

Carson opened his eyes and nodded. "All right." He caught Sheppard's eye. “Colonel, I’m releasing Rodney to his room on his own steam.”

"Guest quarters," Rodney inserted.

Beckett looked at him carefully before nodding. "I’m releasing him to the guest quarters he took previously. Could you have your Marines make sure he is'na disturbed for the rest of the evening? He needs to get a good night’s rest.

John’s eyes narrowed, but after a long pause he gave a brief incline of his head and shifted his attention to the soldier holding Rodney’s arm. “Stay outside the door, no one goes in or out until I come by in the morning.”

"Yes, sir," the Marine said, nodding.

Rodney scowled at Sheppard but didn't comment, waiting for the man at his side to gesture him forward, a hand planted firmly on his shoulder.

"I'll see you in the morning, when we've all had a chance to rest and calm down." Sheppard moved out of the doorway, letting them pass.

"I'm calm," Rodney muttered as he passed, shooting another glare at the man. The march to his temporary quarters was quick, the silence thick. Without bothering to strip, Rodney crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Carson slipped into the conference room the next morning, taking a seat before the others arrived. He knew John had gone to visit Rodney early, but he didn’t know how it had turned out. He had spent most of the night avoiding the confrontation he was about to have. He had effectively gone over pretty much everyone’s heads, and from the memos and terse radio calls, he knew none of them was happy about it.

As the rest of the personnel for the meeting filed in, he did his best to project a calm, confident manner. He was right, he just needed to convince them of it.

Elizabeth walked in last, settling into her chair without a word, placing her PDA gingerly on the table in front of her. "I believe we know why we're here," she finally said, breaking the silence, her calm and quiet voice carrying.

Nodding, Carson waited. He refused to be the one to crack this time.

"John, why don't we start with you? Did you get the chance to talk to Doctor McKay this morning?" Apparently she wasn't going to forget about last night's comment anytime soon.

"We talked. He's a bit better, but not by much. He's restless, all that McKay energy and nothing to do with it. He was back to his usual brand of snark, with the edge from last night dulled a bit." John leaned back in his chair. "A night of rest did him some good it seems."

She nodded, her lips a thin line as her eyes shifted. "Kate? Thoughts?"

"Doctor McKay should not have been released. His disappearance and declarations when he was found make it obvious that he is unstable right now. He needs to be under surveillance."

"Doctor Biro?"

Lindsay Biro cut her eyes briefly at Carson before looking back at Elizabeth. "Honestly, I'm of two minds. As Doctor Beckett has noted, physically he was ready to be released. And from past experience I know Doctor McKay gets very restless once he's past the worst of his injuries. If it were physical injuries alone, he would have been released to his quarters, off-duty, with daily check-ups, several days ago. However, Doctor McKay is a unique case, and I agree with Doctor Heightmeyer that there are mental considerations we need to look at."

Weir nodded again, her eyes dropping to her PDA. "So, based on what you and Kate tell me, McKay should be under medical care and under supervision. Am I correct in your assessments?"

Biro nodded slowly. "As I said, physically, he should be coming in for daily check-ups, to make sure he's taking it easy and eating properly, as well as to have the bandages changed and the wounds cleaned."

"Then why is it that Doctor McKay is in his quarters this morning?" Weir raised her head, her eyes fixed on Beckett. "The last report I saw indicated that Doctors Biro and Heightmeyer were in charge of his care and yet neither of them seem to think he should be out of the infirmary."

"I exercised my authority to make the ultimate decisions on patient care. As Lindsay said, Rodney should have been released several days ago, only coming by once a day to get looked over. He recovers better and faster in his own environment. I'm the most experienced in treating him and I stand by the decision. He has been pushed to the edge, as his escape yesterday demonstrated. We can'na treat him like a prisoner."

"But that was a decision you did not have the authority to make."

He met her eyes straight on. "As Chief Medical Officer, I do have that authority."

"You had that authority earlier in the day, yes, but that was before your patient decided to send half of Atlantis into an uproar."

"Are you demoting me then? Otherwise, I still reserve the right to make the final medical decisions for all patients on Atlantis. I take into consideration the recommendations and advice of all my staff, but in this case, I disagree. That's why you asked me to do this job. You trusted my judgment."

Weir closed her eyes for a moment before continuing, some of the anger and hardness gone. "I'm not demoting you, Carson. And yes, I still trust you. But in this instance, you went too far."

He shook his head, letting his own expression soften slightly. "I used my better judgment, which I had been acting against for days. I believe if I had done this when I originally wanted to release him, yesterday would never have happened. As I said, I stand by the decision, and I won'na rescind it. If you want to replace me as CMO, that's another story. It's my job to make the sometimes-hard decisions that can mean life or death in nearly every patient that comes through my infirmary. I won'na apologize for the decisions I have to make, and I can'na start second-guessing myself."

Her expression darkened, but she didn't argue with him. "Kate, what would you recommend at this point?"

He saw Heightmeyer looking at him appraisingly. "I disagree with releasing him, that hasn't changed. Doctor McKay needs counseling, which he is fighting against right now. I'm still not as convinced as Doctor Beckett that he doesn't pose a risk to himself, mostly because he refuses to talk about anything that happened. We have no idea what's really going on in his head, and that can be dangerous."

"So what do you recommend?"

She sighed slightly. "Enforced sessions once a day. If he will agree to come for an hour a day, or at least have someone bring him by for the hour, until I clear him, then I'll agree to the release. I won't give my okay for active duty again until he can get past the anger he's carrying right now. It's building up and I don't think any of us want it to break while he's off-world."

Weir nodded. "John, will Rodney agree?"

Sheppard snorted. "Not a chance, but I'll let him know he can do it with some sort of dignity on his own, or I'll have my men march him in under guard."

"Having him sit in Kate's office without talking through anything is not worth her time or Rodney's," Weir said. "What will it take to convince him?"

"Let him have some control over the situation," Carson said quietly. "Most of his anger is because he lost all control over everything. For a man like Rodney, that must have been a hard blow. And we've all been trying to continue to force him to do what we want. Instead of telling him he has to go see Kate from eight to nine every morning, tell him when he's ready, she's there to listen, and until then he's off the duty roster. Let him have the space he needs to get things straight in his own head, then he'll be ready to talk."

"So we just let him do as he pleases?" The scorn in Kate's voice was thick.

"No, as I said, he's kept off the duty roster, and he still needs to check in with the infirmary once a day at the very least. But he has'na had a chance to even breathe since everything started happening. Let him catch his breath for a few days and find his balance again." Carson didn't turn to look at Kate, keeping his eyes firmly on Elizabeth.

"And that will help?" Elizabeth met his gaze easily.

"Pushing the issue only led to him feeling like a caged animal with the need to escape. How can it hurt?"

She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding once, sharply. "I want you to explain it to him. If he doesn't agree, or he misses appointments he makes, he'll be under Kate's care until this is worked out."

"I'll make sure he understands."

"I hope you do because we can't afford to have him at anything less than his best and we need him back." She turned to John. "I'd recommend that you call off the guards you have stationed outside his quarters."

Sheppard held her gaze for a few long seconds before nodding. "All right, we'll try it Beckett's way."

"Good," she said standing. "Unless there's something else?" He waited, but no one said anything further. "I'll expect an update at the end of the day."

Carson rose, taking a deep breath before nodding at the others and following Elizabeth out the door. He headed for the transporter and Rodney's new room, temporary room, whatever it was at this point. This should be interesting.

When he reached his destination, the guards were already gone, so he assumed John had radioed ahead. He knocked on the door. "Rodney?"

"What?" The reply was sharp and annoyed.

"I've got some information for you, if you'll let me in."

The door slid open a few seconds later—as if it were reluctant to let him in. But it was just a door and they didn't do anything with emotion. And here he was anthropomorphizing a door.

Rodney stood by the window, his back to Carson, his arms crossed as he looked out over the city below. "What did you want? Or are you going to drag me back to the infirmary?"

He moved in, letting the silly door close behind him. "Actually, just the opposite. I've convinced them to give you some space for now."

Rodney's back tensed, but he didn't turn around. "After yesterday?"

"Aye. Even after that. You aren't on the duty roster, and you won't be cleared for duty until you talk to Kate—I couldn't prevent that. But you can do it on your own time and terms. The only catch is that you keep any appointments you do make. If you miss any, Elizabeth is handing your care completely over to Kate and overruling me."

"I have no intention of talking to her."

"You won't be cleared to work until you do. In the labs or off-world. You can put it off for as long as you need to, but you will have to go see her eventually."

"I can always quit." The words were quiet, barely reaching where Carson stood.

He watched his friend carefully. "Aye, that's always an option, but one I hope you won't exercise, at least not without thinking about it long and hard. Atlantis needs you, and you're like family now. Take a few days to do what you need. You asked me to get everyone to leave you alone, give you space, and I've done what I can. You need to stop by the infirmary at least once a day to get the bandages changed, but other than that, you're on your own."

Rodney turned, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. "That's it?"

"That's it. The colonel has pulled off the guards, and I'd suggest at least keeping a radio handy if you go wandering, but there are no other restrictions." Carson moved over to the desk, fiddling with the objects scattered around it.

McKay turned back to the window and the view. "Fine."

Carson wondered briefly if Rodney knew or cared that he had basically put his career and own place on Atlantis up for him. With a quiet sigh, he figured probably not. The man had enough of his own problems. "You know where to find me if you need me. Don't forget to come have the bandages changed."

"Like you'd let me forget."

Straightening, he watched his friend's back for a moment. "Have a nice day, Rodney. Enjoy the time off."

"When am I supposed to get the wounds looked at?" he asked just before Carson stepped through the door. He still hadn't turned around, but it was better than the indifference he'd gotten before.

Pausing, Carson turned back slightly. "If you want me to do it, I'm on duty until 2000. After that, Lindsay can take care of it on the night shift. Make sure you stop by before the end of the day."

Rodney nodded, his palm resting on the glass. "I'll remember. Thank you."

Carson hesitated one last time before leaving. "We're your friends, Rodney. Believe it or not, all we really want to do is help." Without giving the other man a chance to respond, he slipped out, the door silently closing behind him. With a hard swallow, he started back for the infirmary.

***

Rodney spent most of the day in his room, the temporary guest quarters he'd commandeered—apart from his quick trips to the mess at odd hours when he knew there wouldn't be many people around.

He finally went to the infirmary just before 2000, standing silently in Carson's door until the Scot glanced up. The exam was short, Beckett's movements efficient and sure, the conversation minimal.

Now that he had his freedom, he wasn't sure what to do with it exactly.

The second day went much as the first and Rodney found himself oddly bored and unmotivated. Sitting down for a late dinner—he'd done his check in the middle of the afternoon with Anne when Carson was in the middle of a minor emergency, a broken leg or something—he remembered all the times he'd been here with his team, talking over one mission to another. Times had changed. Things had changed. He'd changed.

The sound of a clearing throat broke into his musings.

"I was wondering if perhaps you would like some company?" Teyla held a tray of food, and smiled at him.

Rodney shrugged, but gestured with his fork to the empty seat across from him, some food sticking to the end of the prongs. Not that he was actually eating much. Pushing it around more than anything.

She slid into the seat with easy grace. "I have not seen you much lately, and I have missed your company."

He glanced up trying to hide his surprise at the comment. "Well…circumstances and all." He shrugged. "You know how it goes."

She nodded, taking a few bites of food before responding. "You had told me many weeks ago that you were curious about the basic fighting techniques my people have passed down. If you are still interested, I would be honored to teach you."

"Little late, don't you think?" He cursed himself and his bitter tone, but he couldn't take it back.

She merely cocked her head slightly. "Was it not you who told me no knowledge is ever wasted? It is the same for skills such as this. We might wish we had them earlier, but that does not stop us from picking them up now, so we are better prepared for the future, whatever it might hold."

McKay snorted, his fork shoving the food around, mixing the green vegetables in with the mashed root that the cooks were trying to pass off as potatoes. "Maybe another time." He paused, his eyes drifting up to the Athosian. "Why are you here, really? What do you want?"

"I am enjoying my meal in the company of my teammate and friend. Is this not acceptable?" She gave him another of her gentle smiles.

"It's…fine."

"Good." She continued to eat, letting a comfortable silence settle between them.

After several minutes of staring at his food and eating one out of ten bites, he finally glanced up again. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why am I doing what?"

"Why do you care?"

She set her fork down carefully, and caught his eye, refusing to let him look away. "You are a good man, and as I said, my friend and teammate. I enjoy your company, and when I saw you sitting here alone, I wished to join you. You are not a warrior, and yet you fight alongside us. You are far stronger than you know. I am honored to know you, and I hope that you consider me a friend as well."

"I…well…of course." He finally tore his eyes away, glancing back down at his unappetizing dinner.

"I have noticed that your people's concept of family is much different from ours. With the constant threat of the Wraith, we have learned that family is not those tied to you by blood, but those whom you choose to spend your time with, to protect. Everyone on Atlantis is now part of my extended family, but you, Colonel Sheppard, and Ronon are my immediate family. Is not caring what families do for one another?"

He shrugged again. "You might be surprised."

Shaking her head firmly, she reached out and caught his hand in hers. "If they do not care, they are not family."

He dropped his head a little more before raising it to look at her once again, holding back his initial reaction to pull his hand away. "I…appreciate what you're doing, but this is just something I need to work through. I…I hope you understand."

"I do. We must all find our own path, even when it is painful to walk. I assure you, my intention when I joined you was merely to share my meal with a friend. If you wish anything more, I will be happy to provide it, but it does not have to be any more than that."

Rodney nodded. "That's fine. I just wanted to make sure we were clear."

She released his hand and picked her fork back up. "I have heard that the mess staff has found a way to simulate your chocolate."

"They have?" His eyebrow rose. "That almost frightens me. They can barely remember not to include citrus in every single dish. I'm not sure I want to know what they're using to make pseudo-chocolate."

"It is my understanding that the root one of the teams brought back from trade has a similar taste and texture." She pushed a small piece of what looked like cake towards him. "This was their first attempt."

"It's pink."

She tilted her head slightly. "It is."

"That's just…wrong."

"The color affects the taste? I did not know this."

He waved her off. "Pink is a berry flavor. Everyone knows that."

"So you will not eat chocolate if it is not the correct color?" The corners of her mouth twitched, and she took a bite of the cake. "It has a taste similar to the 'Hershey bar' you once let me try."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, finally giving and snagging a small piece with the tip of his fork. Teyla was right it was vaguely reminiscent of a Hershey bar, but there was something about the taste that made it obvious it was not the original. "It…seems okay. But why is it pink?"

"That is the color of the root. It is from the Sheesha plant."

"The what? No, wait," he said shaking his head. "I don't really want to know."

She gave a low chuckle and pushed the cake closer to him. "I was told that they plan to continue to refine the flavor in the mess kitchen. The chef said something about a moose. He also mentioned the beans we traded for that you called coffee—he said coating some of them in the Sheesha would produce a treat the scientists would enjoy."

"Either that or send them into convulsions," he grumbled, spearing another piece of the strange, pink cake.

She just smiled again and finished her dinner.

Pushing his unfinished tray aside, he sighed. He had a nagging headache he hadn't been able to shake, but compared to before he was several thousand times better. "I'm…ah…I'm going to head out." His right hand gestured toward the door as he stood.

Teyla rose and moved forward slightly, lowering her head to bump against his. "It has been a pleasure seeing you. I hope you will not stay away. Please feel free to come find me should you change your mind about the training."

"I…ah…sure," he replied, stepping back with a nervous chuckle. "If I change my mind I will, but the likelihood of that happening is probably pretty slim."

Nodding her head, she moved aside enough to let him pass. "I will leave that decision to you. I merely wished to ensure you knew the offer was open"

"I know. I wouldn't forget," he said quickly, grabbing his tray, the items banging together a little as his hands shook slightly. "I…ah…have a good night."

Without waiting for her reply, he deposited his tray and threw out the remains of his food. He spotted Carson and Sheppard sitting at another table in the corner, talking quietly, their heads together. Instead of stopping to talk to them like he normally would, he headed out. His body and mind were restless. His feet took him through the halls with no destination in mind.

A large shape came up beside him quietly, falling into step with him easily. The huge former Runner said nothing, but shortened his stride a bit to match Rodney's.

Glancing to the side, he regarded the Satedan for a long moment before stopping in the middle of the hall, an empty stretch of corridor somewhere between the science labs and one of the grounding stations. "What?"

"What?"

Irritation crossed his face. "Okay, apparently fewer words doesn't necessarily mean understanding on your part, does it? So, I'll elaborate, but I'll try to use small words. What do you want?"

"To walk."

"Well, there's plenty of other hallways. Why this one? And why with me?"

Ronon shrugged. "You're going the same direction."

"Fine." Rodney turned and started moving again, turning a corner at the first corridor he passed. Vaguely he realized he was heading toward the holding cells, but he didn't change his direction.

Ronon followed along quietly, letting Rodney get a few paces ahead, but not far.

They walked like that for several minutes, silence between them, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the hall. It wasn't until he neared the cells that Rodney began to slow, his chest tensing.

"Want me to shoot him for you?"

"What?" Rodney stopped, turning a confused look on the other man.

"Sheppard can't, something about your people's laws. I can though." He pulled his gun partly out of its holster and gave Rodney a hopeful look.

"What? No," he shook his head, turning to look down the hall, one of the soldiers guarding the door giving him a strange look. The man held his gaze for a moment before hitting his radio. Rodney turned and started walking the other way.

With a shrug, Ronon put the gun away and fell into step behind him again. After a few heartbeats of silence, the Satedan spoke again. "I could use my fists. Wouldn't kill him. Probably."

Rodney whirled around, anger in his movements, his voice. "No. Leave him the hell alone. Do you understand me, Ronon? And actually, leave me the hell alone, too. I don't need you trailing behind me."

The man just shrugged again. "Got nothing else to do."

"Find something."

"I did."

"Find something else," Rodney said through gritted teeth.

"You told me not to do that."

"Go fight with some Marines. Go talk to Sheppard. Just leave me alone." He turned on his heel and started walking quickly down the hall, but his shadow wasn't budging.

"Marines aren't my team, and Sheppard's pissy. Too easy to beat this way."

"Just go away," he said, the anger draining. Why didn't Ronon understand?

Moving up beside him, the Satedan gave him a measuring look. "You need someone to yell at, get the anger out. I can take it."

Rodney sighed. "I don't want to yell at you or anyone else. Right now I just want you to go away. Is that so hard for you to comprehend?"

"You're always yelling. Makes you feel better. Why aren't you doing it now?"

"Just…" He shook his head. Nothing he said would change the Satedan's mind. He continued down the hall, only stopping when he was outside, on one of the many balconies, leaning against the railing. He closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow down.

He heard Ronon behind him, and from the shadow realized the man was leaning against the wall. After a few minutes of silence, Ronon's voice drifted over. "Thought about ending it all a few times on the Run. But that would mean the Wraith won, and I wouldn't give them the satisfaction."

"I'm not thinking about that," he growled, the tension in his body on the rise yet again.

"Didn't say you were."

"Then what's with the comment?"

"You're giving him the satisfaction of changing you."

"Life changes you, Ronon. That's the whole point."

"Life had nothing to do with it."

"It happened. It's my life. I'm dealing with it. Can you just leave me alone?"

"Sure. Just deal with it instead of pretending life stopped." Ronon stood up and started back towards the door.

Rodney didn't stop him from leaving, the door sliding shut with a sigh that he echoed. He didn't think life had stopped. Really. That wasn't his issue, his problem.

When the door opened several minutes later, he didn't even turn around. "My request for you to leave me alone did not mean for five minutes."

"I haven't seen you since yesterday morning. You feeling okay, McKay?" Sheppard drawled as he moved next to him at the railing.

Rodney jumped at the voice, turning slightly so he could see the soldier. "I was expecting Ronon."

"That's okay. He can kick my ass, so being mistaken for him isn't really an insult."

"I thought you were eating dinner with Beckett," he finally said a moment later.

"I was a while ago. It doesn't take me all that long to eat. You could have sat with us you know. I didn't even realize you were there until I saw you leaving."

"Teyla insisted on keeping me company," he replied, his eyes on the water below. "What brings you down here?"

"Matthews radioed me that you were down at the brig. And before you get all bent out of shape about that, he's under orders to call me if anyone goes down there, not just you. Figured I'd come check on you and see how you were doing."

"Fine. I'm fine."

"Good to hear."

"Then you can go back on your merry way."

"I will in a minute." He paused for a second. "I miss going off-world."

"What's stopping you? Zelenka said he'd sit in as your fourth."

"Barring emergencies, I've grounded us until I can go with my full team. I'm not interested in substitutes."

Rodney turned, his mouth hanging open. "What? Why? That makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense. We have a good team. I don't really have any interest in changing that. We can wait until you're ready. We all probably needed the break anyway."

"And if I'm not…ready?"

"I wasn't asking you to be ready yet. We can wait. I had a lot of paperwork to catch up on."

"You hate paperwork."

Sheppard gave a wry laugh. "Which is why I have a small mountain of it. The emails from the SGC requesting it have been getting more and more testy, so this seemed like as good a time as any to make a dent."

Rodney let the silence settle between them for several minutes, the light breeze ruffling his hair, the quiet companionship slowly enabling him to unwind. Part of him, though, felt guilty, and is what made him finally speak up again, the words quiet. "I think you should know that I'm not going to talk to Kate."

"I don't blame you. From what I've gotten out of Carson, she's been a bit of a bitch lately. If you're willing to talk to someone else, though, I bet we can get Weir to give the okay to that."

"I've talked to Carson…" He shrugged slightly, knowing that was probably not the best answer.

"Have you? I got the impression you sort of tossed him out when he tried." Sheppard ran a hand through his hair in what Rodney had come to realize was what he did when he was uncomfortable. "Honestly, I think the talking thing is a load of crap. If and when you want to talk, any of us are willing to listen, but making it a condition of clearance has always struck me as ridiculous. I don't know what to tell you, only that whatever you need to do, the team will be here waiting."

"And what if I decide not to come back?"

"I was sorta hoping that wouldn't occur to you. I won't promise to just let you walk away—I'll do my damnedest to convince you otherwise."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I'm a genius, of course it's going to occur to me."

"Yeah, but occur to you and act on it are two different things. It's just one, small, insignificant possibility to be dismissed in a snarky and superior way."

"I might not be dismissing it, Sheppard."

"Yes, you are."

"Not so much."

"You aren't quitting the team."

"You aren't going to tell me what I can and cannot do. Grown man. Decisions are something I can make on my own."

"Decisions sure. But I won't accept your resignation. You're a member of my team, and that isn't changing."

"And that's something you might not have any control over, Colonel," Rodney said, the words bitter and sharp. He turned to walk back into the city, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Rodney. I'm not trying to control you. You're my teammate and friend. I don't have any interest in replacing you or losing you." Sheppard released him and ran his hand through his hair again. "Look, I didn't come out here to argue with you or piss you off. I'm sorry. You were enjoying the fresh air, and I don't want to run you off. I'll leave if you want me to."

"There's always other balconies, Colonel. I can find myself another one."

"That's all right, stay here. Just...don't make any snap decisions, okay?" He moved towards the door.

"Trust me, this decision is long in coming," Rodney said, moving back toward the railing as Sheppard headed slowly toward the door.

The soldier stopped, turning back slightly. "I hope to hell that's not true. I'd like to think we've got something here, and I don't think I'm the only one." Without waiting for a reply, he slipped out.

"Something? Something?" Rodney said into the air. "Sure we've got something: a galaxy full of aliens who want to suck our life out through their hands and no chance in hell of actually winning." He was tired, but his mind was restless.

Sighing, the balcony losing its interest, Rodney headed back inside, deciding to walk until he dropped from sheer exhaustion. Maybe then he wouldn't dream.

***

Carson stared at the wall in his quarters. He had stripped out of his lab-wear, showered away the day’s stress and worry, and had gotten into the old, comfortable sweats and tee-shirt he liked to sleep in. Sleep, however, was elusive.

Restless, he got up and moved to the window. He was on the wrong side of the city to see the moon this early in the evening, but it cast enough light to give the city an almost ethereal effect. He didn’t know how long he stood there just looking when the chime on his door made him jump.

“Aye, who is it?”

"Teyla."

He opened the door with a thought—that still creeped him out a bit when he let himself think about it—and turned to face the door. "What can I do for you, lass?"

"Am I interrupting anything?" She peered in carefully, searching for him in the half-light.

Carson let the lights come up a bit. "Not really, no. I gave up on sleep a little while ago. Come on in, have a seat." He waved to the one chair in the room, and sat himself on the edge of the bed.

She sat down gingerly, her expression hesitant. "I am…concerned about Doctor McKay."

Beckett dragged a hand across his face. "I don't think there's anyone who isn't right now."

"He is…not himself. I am not sure what I can do to help him."

"He's been through a series of pretty serious traumas. Any one alone would be bad enough, but the cumulative effect is what's causing problems. Other than make sure he knows we're his friends, and we're here for him, though, I'm not sure there's anything you can do. He has to work some of it out on his own—Rodney won't accept help until he reaches a point where he has to."

"He spends too much time on his own," she said, glancing down at her hands. "He does not eat and he no longer finds joy in the things he once did. I cannot speak to him as I once did."

"He needed the time on his own to work out some of what's going on in his own head, but you're right, it's probably time to see if someone can get him to talk. I'll make another attempt if I can catch him. He's been avoiding me, though, even coming to get his daily checks when I'm busy or not there."

"And what about you? How are you?" she asked, the questions kind, filled with concern.

He gave her an ironic grin. "You mean other than one of my best friends tearing himself apart, and my teetering on the edge of losing my job? Peachy."

She tilted her head, offering a small comforting smile in return. "Have you talked to anyone about your…concerns?"

He rose, pacing again to the window. He kept the bitterness and frustration out of his voice—he knew she was trying to help. "Who would I talk to? The resident psychologist and I have all but drawn battle lines. John—whom I've talked with before—is a bit occupied with keeping our astrophysicist sane and on Atlantis. And Elizabeth is more than a bit irritated with me."

"I am here."

He looked back at her, dredging up a genuine smile. "Aye, but you are rightly focused on Rodney as well. I won't burden you with my problems on top of that, lass. It would'na be fair."

"And yet I am here now and not in Doctor McKay's quarters." She leaned back in the chair, getting a little more comfortable.

He let his gaze go back to the window, although he didn't focus on the view. He let the silence stretch for a few minutes, debating taking the comfort she was offering. When he finally broke it, his voice was almost too quiet to carry. "I'm not supposed to need it, comfort. It's my job to give it, not take it."

"All beings require some form of comfort. Should you not take it when it is available?"

"Aye, and if I was anyone else, I'd be saying the same thing. That does'na make it any easier though."

"No, I imagine it does not." Teyla paused for a long moment, continuing once again her words hued with memories. "I remember as a little girl I hated running to my father when I was frightened of something in the night. I always believed that I should be strong, just like he was. But now, I wish that I had."

He sighed softly. "Every decision I make, a life hangs in the balance. Sometimes it is'na loss of life, but loss of limb, loss of sanity—loss. And I have no idea if I've made the right one until after it's too late to do anything about it. I'm the reason Rodney is on his own now. I pushed for it; put my career on the line for it. But now I'm starting to wonder if it was the right choice, if I pushed him over that chasm."

"Do you think so little of him?"

That startled him into looking over at her. "Of course not. But you said it yourself; he's withdrawing more and more. Maybe I should have let Kate have her way."

"Would this have happened if he was still in the infirmary?"

"I don't know, and that's why I'm second-guessing myself. Keeping him there was slowly making him go batty. But this does'na seem to have changed much, except that now he's doing it alone instead of with an audience."

"But either way, he would still have had to work through it. Correct?"

"Aye. The only difference is that now he's doing it alone."

"Perhaps," she said, ducking her head. "But he would be under guard and in the care of Doctors Biro and Heightmeyer. Knowing Doctor McKay, he would have attempted to…leave," her lips twitching upward at the word, "at least one more time. What do you think would have happened in that case?"

He turned completely, leaning back against the window, enjoying the cool feeling against his back, seeping though his clothes. "He would have been restrained. If Kate had her say, he would have been that way to begin with."

"And how would that have affected him?"

"Probably driven him either insane or forced him to withdraw completely. It's one of the reasons I fought against it to begin with."

"So letting him work this out on his own…"

He shifted restlessly. "Whenever I asked him what he wanted, his only answer was to be left alone. I was hoping maybe he could find the control, the balance, he had lost. But instead he seems to be slipping further away from it."

"Perhaps he needs to before he can find his footing once again."

"Has to hit rock bottom before he can start to build the foundation again, hmm? I know the theory, but I'm not sure he can go any lower and still find his way back. That bloody bastard all but broke him, Teyla. And since he won't talk, I have no idea how to put him back together." He turned away again, his chest tightening, his volume rising as he continued. "And yet I'm supposed to be the one who can. I'm fighting everyone on his care, facing doubts and second-guesses and outright rebellion for every decision I've made. How am I supposed to fix him, when I'm starting to wonder if I can even fix myself anymore?"

"Are you sure he has not talked? How much time did you spend with him while he was in your care? Perhaps he told you more than you know." She paused, offering a light smile. "Your decision was correct. However, there is only so much I can do to aid you. There is someone, however, who may be able to help you more."

"The colonel has been keeping me more or less updated with who Rodney's been talking to. Rodney's been insisting he's fine, and I have to wonder who he's trying to convince at this point." Carson paused, his mind catching up with the latter half of her statement. "Wait, who do you think can help?"

"That is only a question you can answer…if you are willing." She rose to her feet. "Consider it, Carson. I would hate to lose the both of you."

She ducked her head and headed out of the door, leaving silence in her wake.

"Wait a minute, what...." He trailed off, watching his door slide shut. With a quiet moan of frustration, he let his head fall back against the window. Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed.

***

Rodney shuffled into the infirmary the next afternoon, surprised to find Carson waiting for him, hands on his hips, standing next to one of the exam beds.

"Hop up."

He hadn't been avoiding the man, but it just seemed that he'd managed to—without really trying. Nodding once, he moved to the bed, settling on it a moment later.

Carson began the exam, which had started to become routine. "So do you want to tell me what I did to drive you away?"

"Huh?" Rodney's head snapped up to find anger in his friend's face. "I…" He wasn't sure how to answer that question.

Carson visibly tamped down on his emotions, but Rodney could see them, hovering under the surface—anger, guilt, fear, worry, concern. There were plenty. "You've been going out of your way to avoid me, and everyone else from what I've heard. I know you needed some space, but it's been almost a week Rodney. I…just give me some clue as to what's going on in that head of yours."

"Nothing, alright. Nothing and everything," he snapped. "What does it matter? I'm following your instructions to the letter."

"This is'na about instructions. It matters because I'm worried and I can't help if you won't let me."

"I'm fine," he said, the words forced out through gritted teeth.

"Right," Carson sighed, and the fight seemed to go out of him. "Fine. Everything's just fine." He quickly finished the exam, his movements edged with his suppressed anger. Intellectually Rodney knew it wasn't Carson's fault that things had happened, but his mind, his emotions couldn't separate the two. It had been Carson's face, his hands, his body that caused this—and then healed him. But because of that one event everything had changed. The people he trusted, relied on, hadn't been able to help him, save him, protect him. And now, Rodney didn't know if he'd ever get back what he lost, what had been taken from him.

When Carson started to move away once the exam was complete, Rodney knew he had to say something, explain…but where did you start after this? There was just…too much.

"What do you want from me, Carson?" Rodney asked, hearing the desperation in his own voice. "I'm doing the best I can."

The other man turned back with tired eyes. "I just want to help, but you either don't want it, or you've convinced yourself you don't need it. No one can handle everything you've been through alone, but you won't let any of us close enough to be a shoulder to lean on. You don't have to do this by yourself."

"No, Carson," he said shaking his head. "You don't understand. That's exactly what I have to do." He slid off the bed, adjusting his shirt. Explaining. Explaining was pointless. How could he even begin to explain it?

"Pushing everyone away won't change anything. It won't stop you from caring, or us from caring about you. Locking yourself behind a wall won't even stop pain, when you come down to it. The only difference it will make is that with friends around you, the aftermath is a lot easier to deal with."

Rodney shook his head, his eyes never lifting high enough to see the concern and worry in Beckett's face. "That's where you're wrong because I don't intend to be here when the aftermath finally arrives."

McKay moved toward the door, the fingers of his left hand brushing against his right wrist, the scars yet one more reminder of the things that had gone so wrong.

"So you plan to leave us then," Carson's soft brogue stopped him. "Just walk away and pretend none of this exists. Sit back, safe and bored, and deprive your friends of your brain and creativity and skill, which have more often than not been the only thing standing between us and death. All because you are afraid to let us get close to you, because you might hurt us or we might hurt you. You're going to give Kramer and the Trust exactly what they wanted all along."

No, Carson didn't understand at all.

"They took it weeks ago," he finally answered, the words resigned. "I've just got around to figuring it out."

"They didn't take a damn thing. They tried and failed, so now you're going to hand it to them all wrapped up in a nice bow."

Rodney turned, sarcasm and bitterness in his voice, too tired and hurt and scared to tone it down. "Oh, is this your medical degree talking or you? Because in either case, I don't think you're qualified to pass judgment on me."

"I'm not passing judgment, I'm frustrated and worried because my friend is slipping further and further away, and there's not a damn thing I seem to be able to do to stop it. I don't know how to get through to you, Rodney, and that scares me more than anything I can say."

"I'm fine. It's just taken me this long to figure out what I have to do, that's all."

"Running away isn't solving the problem."

"Who says I'm running? You? Well, I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"I don't know what you're thinking because you won't talk to me, tell me anything. All I can go by is the sarcastic quips about not being around for the aftermath. If you aren't running, then what are you doing?" He noticed Carson completely ignored the jibe.

"Taking control of my life, which is more than I can say for you."

"Can we stop with the cryptic statements? Honestly, I'm too tired to play the game, and you don't look like you've been sleeping or eating well enough to play either."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "What game would you rather play?"

"How about we skip the games and you just tell me what this is all about?"

"You were the one who started it. Why don’t you tell me?"

"You know, you're lucky I like you. Because sometimes you are the most exasperating man ever born and if I didn't like you, I'd be tempted to hurl something at you." Carson shook his head and closed some of the distance between them. "Now, instead of giving my nursing staff yet another argument to whisper about, why don't we go yell at each other in my office?"

"Why? You think we actually have something to talk about?"

He caught several muttered Gaelic curses as the doctor moved past him and towards his office. "Just...please?"

"Fine," Rodney said, trailing behind, not surprised when the door slid shut behind him. "What?"

Carson waved him into a seat as he sat down across from him. "What are you planning?"

Rodney raised an eyebrow. If Carson thought this was going to be simple and easy, he was mistaken. "In regards to…"

"Cheeky bugger. Do you have a spreadsheet somewhere charting how high you can push my blood pressure? You said you aren't running away, yet you've pretty much avoided everyone for a week." Carson pointed to his own head. "What's going on in there?"

"Been thinking. That's what I'm paid to do last I checked."

Holding his head in his hands, Carson sighed. "You're going to make me drag anything out of you, aren't you? Which rather defeats the purpose."

"Why?" He tilted his head, looking at the doctor like he was one of his science experiments.

Carson didn't look up. "Because I really don't want to be the one to push you over the cliff, and I have no bloody clue how close to the edge you really are. I'm not a therapist, I have no idea how to be one, and I don't really want to go that route. I just want to help my friend."

Rodney sighed, some of the fight dropping away as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "What makes you think I haven't jumped already?"

Carson finally sat up. "First, because you aren't the kind of person to do that, and you never will be. Second, because you're still arguing with me. And third, you're enjoying baiting me a little too much to be someone who did any cliff-jumping. And fourth, I have faith in you."

"People change, Carson," Rodney said rising to his feet.

"No. No, they don't. I've been a doctor for a long time, and watched people through all kinds of situations. They don't change, they just get scared."

He stopped, feeling his body tense. "I'm not scared."

"No?"

"No."

"What would you call it then?"

"Call what? I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

"How many times have you repeated 'I'm fine' to yourself? For a man who prides himself on being both well-spoken and abhors the, I believe I heard you call it once "simple repetitions of the simple mind', you've been resorting to it a lot. Who are you trying to convince? When was the last time you looked in a mirror? You look like hell, which is why everyone keeps asking."

"I don't know," he replied, sinking back into the chair. "I haven't kept track and maybe if I wasn't surrounded by idiots—"

'You've been by yourself the vast majority of the time, and you are anything but an idiot."

Rodney huffed. "You're just…turning my words against me. I know how I feel."

"I'm not trying to turn your words against you, Rodney. I'm trying to figure out what you feel, since 'I'm fine' doesn't really tell me much. You keep saying you know what you have to do, and hinting that you think you're broken, but you aren't. You were bruised and battered, but you stayed whole. It takes a pretty amazing person to survive what you did, and I think you're selling yourself short, doubting yourself. You are far, far stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I wish I could make you see that."

"No," he said shaking his head, waving his finger toward Carson. "No, that's where you're wrong. You weren't there. You don't know."

"I didn't need to be there. I have a pretty good idea now of exactly what happened, and none of it was your fault. You were tortured, both physically and psychologically, and none of us saw what was happening right under our noses. I know you're taking the guilt, the responsibility, for what happened when it isn't yours to shoulder."

"A good idea? You think a good idea is enough to pass medical judgments, to….to make decisions about my health and well-being?" Rodney's mind was spinning, whirling faster than normal.

"I do, but if you want me to know the whole story in detail, tell it to me. Fill in the gaps. You're the only one who can, but so far you've refused to do it. Let me help you."

"I don't need your help," Rodney said, rising to his feet. His restlessness made him antsy especially when his feet and hands moved nearly as fast as his thoughts. He paced in the small area in front of Carson's desk. Three steps left. Turn. Three steps right. Turn. Three steps left. "I've told you everything. Everything you asked. Everything you wanted to know and it's still not enough."

Carson sat back and watched him pace. "You answered questions in the debrief, yes, but you've been mostly silent on how this has effected you personally. Rodney, I'm worried about you—we all are. I'm not asking you to recite facts, I know them already. What I want to know is what's going on in your head, what you're feeling beyond 'fine'. Not because I'm your doctor or want to use it to adjust your care, but because I care about you and you do need help, whether you want to believe it or not."

McKay paused mid-step to shoot Carson a glare, his feet moving again a beat later. "There's nothing to be worried about."

"No? Would you like me to list all the reasons?"

"No, no reasons at all. I'm fine. Everything's fine, but you're not leaving me many options. I can't go back to work because I have to talk to Kate and I have nothing to talk to Kate about, but I can't go back to work until I do. Do you expect me to be happy when I'm trapped in a holding pattern from hell? Of course, I'm upset. I just want to get past this whole…incident, but no one will let me."

Carson was silent for a minute, eyes narrowed. "All right, how about this? What if you'll just talk to me instead of fighting me every step of the way? I'll chat with Elizabeth and get the requirement to speak with Kate waived. I think she's more interested in knowing you're okay than in having you talk to anyone in particular. Will that work?"

McKay stopped, his voice raised in exasperation. "I don't want to talk to anyone! I don't need to talk to anyone! Can't you get that through your thick skulls?"

"If everything really is fine, then why is it such a big deal? We chat for a while about the whole thing, I convince Elizabeth to let you go back to work, and everything is just dandy. If you really don't need to talk to anyone about what happened, but that's all that's standing between you and moving on, why not just do it and get it over with?"

"Because I can't!"

Carson's voice was quiet and calm. "Because you aren't 'fine', and you do need it, and you are terrified of both."

"Just…just leave me alone. You are no better than Kate, wheedling your way in, trying to be a friend…" He turned, waving his hand over the door panel and stepping out into the infirmary before Carson could reply. Rodney heard him calling after him, but he couldn't deal with it right now. Couldn't deal with him.

And he ran.

***

Carson leaned against the doorjamb, watching Kate Heightmeyer work. She hadn’t looked up, so he didn’t think she knew he was there.

That meant he could still change his mind.

He was in over his head and he knew it. Rodney needed help. He wouldn’t talk to Kate, and Carson was terrified he was going to say the wrong thing. He needed Kate to work with him for the good of the patient, and to that end, he forced himself to push aside his current frustration and irritation at her and come looking for help.

He just hoped she could do the same.

She glanced up, surprise on her face as she spotted him, her hands pausing on the keyboard. "Doctor Beckett, I didn't hear you come in. Is there something I can do for you?" Her voice was professional and calm, but the kindness he usually associated with her was gone.

With an internal sigh, he moved in out of the doorway. "I came looking for a truce. Rodney needs help. He's flat-out refusing to come to you, and I don't know if I can give him what he needs without you. We might not agree on everything, but the only one we're hurting here is Rodney."

Kate's eyebrow rose, and she leaned back in her chair. At least she wasn't immediately dismissing him. "What are you thinking?"

He took a chance and slid into her guest chair. "I talked with him a bit this afternoon when he came for his daily check. He's still insisting he's fine, but it's pretty obvious he's not. He was adamant that he does'na need to talk, nor will he agree to talk to you. We can force him to sit here for a session, but all that will accomplish is irritation on all sides. He will talk to me, but I don't know how to help him."

"You're not qualified in these kinds of matters, Carson."

He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair. He had been spending too much time with the Colonel—now he was starting to pick up the man's habits. "Which is why I'm here. I know I'm out of my league, but isn't the end goal getting Rodney to talk and making sure he gets through this? I'm more interested in results than I am in proper procedure right now. Help me figure out how to get him to open up without either driving him over the edge or sending him running from the room."

Kate looked at him carefully for several long moments before speaking again. "And if you make things worse?"

He leaned back in the chair, letting a bit of his own frustration show. "That's what I'm afraid of. But at the end of the day, Rodney is'na talking to anyone, and I'm getting more worried every day. Nothing we've tried so far has worked to get through to him—can it get much worse?"

She glanced down at her hands for a moment before she sighed lightly. "From what I've been hearing, I don't think it can. And if it does…" She shook her head slightly before looking at him again. "What do you need from me?"

"How do I get him to open up? Asking outright has'na worked, and neither has just letting him know I'm there if he needs to talk. I don't know what else to try."

Kate paused for a long moment and Carson wasn't sure she was going to answer. When she finally did, he was pleasantly surprised at her response. "You'd probably want to start with a safe place. Find somewhere that's he's comfortable, somewhere that he feels like he's on the higher ground. You don't want to make him defensive."

Carson nodded slowly. "His lab is out of the question, since he can'na go there at the moment, but his room maybe? If I can catch him there in the evening, or in the morning before I start my shift..."

She shook her head. "His room was also the setting for one of the attacks. As comfortable as it may seem, there might be memories linked directly to it. Perhaps his temporary quarters? Maybe a balcony? Perhaps the Athosian settlement?"

Carson gave into the urge to run his hand through his hair. "The settlement is out of the question. He has'na been cleared to leave the city. But he is spending a lot of time on the balconies. It'll just be a matter of finding him then."

She shrugged. "Perhaps ask to share a meal there with him. He needs to be comfortable with the situation and with you before he'll talk about anything that's actually upsetting him. That will be a start, at least."

"All right, I can do that."

"And I'm not saying this will work. He might very well know what you're trying to do and he might resist and refuse any of your attempts. But, I suspect there's a part of him that wants to be able to move past this and knows that he needs to work through it with someone."

"Aye, that's the feeling I've been getting, but he's fighting it. Every time I've gotten him close to telling me what's bothering him, he either clams up or leaves."

"But I imagine that many of those…discussions were forced on him, perhaps in the infirmary or your office."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I already admitted I'm not very good at this."

"Yes, you did. But I'm trying to get you to explain why he may have reacted the way he did." She leaned forward, closing the lid of her laptop before she moved around to the two guest chairs she had set up for sessions, gesturing with her hand for him to join her. Carson moved, settling into the comfortable armless chair across from her, as she continued to talk. "Those locations were not _his_ , for lack of a better term. For you though, you are comfortable there. That makes it easier for _you_ to discuss things. Can you see the difference?"

"Aye, I do. And I'm willing to try it your way. He needs to eat more anyway, so bringing along dinner in the form of a peace offering takes care of that, too. I'll let him choose the location."

"Good," she said nodding. "I'd also let him choose the topics. We both know that Rodney tends to avoid silence and once he starts on a subject, he will…meander. From this you should be able to pick up on things that are bothering him. Then, ask small questions, clarifications on some points. Back off if he reacts badly. Let him set the pace. Also, ask leading questions. You know where it has to go—or at least have a good idea. Use these questions to steer the conversation while letting it seem as if he has the control."

Carson nodded slowly. "In other words, let him take control, and just nudge him a bit from time to time to steer the conversation in the right direction."

"Yes, but also know that this won't be solved in one conversation."

"I didn't think it would. Honestly, if we can get him to at least admit he has a problem and start to work through it, I'll be happy with that start. I know he's starting to chafe at not being allowed to work. I'd like to get him to the point where we can let him on light duty as soon as possible. That will go a long way towards helping him move past this."

"Agreed. But I also think he needs to trust himself," she said, her expression thoughtful. "I wonder how much guilt and doubt he has about himself after this. He was ordered to do many things, but where did the orders end and his own actions begin? I'm sure that's a question he's wrestling with."

"I have a feeling that's part of why he's both avoiding me and will only talk to me. My accident was one of the things he was ordered to do, and I've picked up that he has a lot of guilt over it. I've made it clear I don't blame him, but I can't stop him from blaming himself."

"There's plenty of misplaced blame to go around, don't you agree? It's a human response to wonder 'what if' things had been different. And the larger the incident, the more substantial those feelings of guilt."

"But telling him outright that he's not to blame hasn't made a difference. I know John has said the same thing to him, made it clear that all soldiers are put through training to endure torture, and one of the first things they're taught is that everyone breaks eventually. But I think Rodney blames himself for not fighting harder, although in reality there was'na much he could have done to stop any of it. That he managed to find ways to fight at all is amazing."

"I agree." She paused briefly before continuing with a lighter, softer voice. "I know this is not what you came in here looking for, but how are you doing? I don't know all the details as to what went on back on the planet to you the first time you were there, but I know that you must be fighting with some of the same feelings of guilt and blame."

He started a bit at the sudden change in direction of the conversation, blinking several times. "Ah, what?"

She tilted her head, looking at him knowingly. "A number of the things you've mentioned aren't just confined to Rodney. You were affected, even if you don't want to admit it. You lost control and ended up doing things you regretted."

He felt a wry grin cross his lips. "What's good for the goose, hmm?" Closing his eyes briefly, he debated denying it but knew she would see through it. And they had a more or less working truce going on that he didn't want to disrupt, for Rodney's sake. "I'm probably worse in some ways than Rodney—I know damn well that I need to talk, but honestly I don't know if I can."

"What's holding you back?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I've spent the vast majority of my life being the one who offers comfort, not the one who takes it. Even as a child I was the mediator and soother of the family. That's not something I can set aside easily or lightly."

She nodded, understanding in her expression. "Do you see the possibility of losing Rodney as a foreshadowing of what may happen to you?"

"I don't think I do," he said slowly. "I'd like to think I don't at any rate. While I lost control of my own body for a time, I was pushed aside or in pain for most of what happened. And when it was over, the fallout was'na centered on me, but on Rodney. He has had a much worse time of it than me, which means his road to recovery will be that much longer and harder."

"Why do you think that his was the harder time?"

Closing his eyes again, he couldn't stop the brief shudder at the memory of being trapped in his own mind. But that hadn't been nearly as bad as what Rodney had endured. "Because it was. I was simply removed from the picture for a time, while he was used in a far more...intimate and personal way."

"And you weren't used?"

A sarcastic comment and the urge to just stand up and walk away were strong enough that he had to take a moment to tamp them down. They both knew he needed to work through this eventually, and now was as good a time as any. "When we went back, it tried to convince John to let it have me again, this time permanently."

"How did that make you feel?"

Unconsciously he rubbed his wrist where the tentacles had wrapped around it. "My goal was to get the information needed to finish the therapy, and at that point we had it. I was terrified, but if it came down to one or the other, I told John to bring the samples and data back and leave me behind."

"But it wasn't up to you, was it? You had no control over the situation."

"No," he said quietly. "I was a bit…tied up at the time."

Her eyebrow rose. "Physically or mentally?"

"This time? Physically. It...did'na want to let me go."

"How did that make you feel?"

He let his wrist go, his own fingers suddenly feeling too tight. "Trapped."

"Scared that Colonel Sheppard might not be able to save you?"

"No. Scared that I was going to get lost in the system. I nearly did the first time, and it was only that Rodney was suffering that kept me fighting it. This time, if it had gotten me, I wouldn't have gotten out again."

"Why? Would you have stopped fighting?"

He wanted to wrap his arms around himself, but knew that would be giving a little too much away. "Yes."

"Why? What had changed?"

"Nothing. I wanted to stop last time too, but knew if I did Rodney would pay the price. It was...you have no idea."

"But you would have stopped fighting and would have been lost in the system. Wouldn't Rodney have 'paid the price' again this time?"

"I had already given John the vial with the therapy. If everything had gone wrong, my staff could have done the final testing." He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "God it hurt, Kate. It couldn't kill me because then my body would have died along with me. Instead it used pain to keep my mind occupied while it did what it wanted. I can't even..."

Her touch was light, gentle. "But you fought it. John figured out how to get you free."

"But if he hadn't, if there had been no other way, I would have chosen oblivion to the pain again." He hadn't realized how deep the fear ran until he started talking, and now he couldn't stop the shaking.

He could feel her concern, her warmth, even without looking up. Her hand tightened, but didn't demand anything from him. "And in that instance, I don't think anyone would have argued against it."

"That's not how it's supposed to happen though. I'm supposed to be strong enough to hold on, to fight. Not just roll over and give in." There was an edge to his voice, directed inward. "God, I didn't even know I was feeling all this. No wonder I can'na sleep without nightmares."

"Carson," she said, her voice asking him to look at her.

He forced his eyes up, knowing at the moment he had no defenses. "Aye?"

"There's one thing you're forgetting."

"What?" He couldn't get out more than another whisper.

Her hand tightened on his. "You're allowed to be human."

He shook his head. "Not always. I have to be stronger, because the people who matter need to know there's someone they can lean on."

She was quiet for a moment. "You matter."

"At the end of the day, we both know I can be replaced far easier than any of the other senior staff. Hell, I'm walking a line to keep my job right now as it is."

"As much as we…disagreed about Doctor McKay's treatment, I do think you were right."

"And I'm beginning to wonder. Second-guessing myself is dangerous. I've seen too many patients lose too much because the attending physician didn't go with their first instinct. But..." He pulled free and dropped his head into his hands. "So much rests on every decision, and a wrong step means someone gets hurt."

"That's the responsibility that rests on every one in this city, Carson, not just you."

He gave a small snort of laughter. "Why do you think I've never bothered to talk about it before?"

"Was it all that horrible an experience?"

"The talking?" He looked up, and knew his lips were twisted in an ironic smile. "You mean other than realizing I'm far more of a mess than I realized?" He sighed, letting his smile turn genuine, if wan. "It's been a long couple of weeks."

"For all of us, yes it has." She patted his hand, offering a smile. "I’m here if you want to talk, vent, whatever. It doesn't have to be more than two friends talking if you don't want it to be. I think it will help you, but you have to make that decision."

"I appreciate that. I'll…if I can, I'll take you up on it. As I said before, this is'na easy for me."

"I understand. But you've already taken the first and hardest step. I'm here if you need me."

He stood up, surprised at how tired he felt. "I think it's off to bed for me—maybe I can actually get some real rest tonight. Thank you. And I'll give it another shot with Rodney tomorrow. I'll keep you posted on how it goes."

She stood, nodding her head. "I'd appreciate that. And take it easy…you're both a little…rough around the edges."

He laughed lightly. "That's a polite way of putting it. Maybe the Pegasus Galaxy will take pity on us after all this and give us a few weeks of rest."

"If I could order it up, I would. Have a good night, Carson, and thanks for coming to me, for trusting me. I appreciate it."

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Thank you, lass. We'll get this all worked out. And should you need someone to talk to, you know my door's always open as well."

She raised an eyebrow, amusement on her face. "Don't think that talking with Rodney will make you an expert so quickly. But, I appreciate the thought."

Grinning, he let go and moved back slightly. "True, and I hope I din'na have to do your job too often. But as you have so delicately driven home, we all need someone to talk to sometimes, even if it's only to let some of the emotion out."

She smiled again, inclining her head but not saying a word.

With a final nod and smile, he left and headed towards his own room. For the first time in weeks, he realized he actually had a little hope that things would eventually work themselves out. Now he just needed to get Rodney to realize the same thing.

***

Rodney stood outside Major Evan Lorne's door for a few minutes before getting the courage up to knock—lightly and barely audible.

Apparently, Lorne's hearing was good.

The door slid open a moment later, revealing a brightly lit, neat and clean room, the major stretched out on his bed, back propped up against some pillows, a book in his hands.

"Doc! Hey!" He sat up a little straighter, a smile on his face. "Great to see you! How have you been?"

Rodney stepped inside, just far enough to let the door close behind him, his cold and clammy hands clutching one another. "Uh…fine. I'm fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Have a seat!" He gestured towards the chair at the desk. "I'm doing pretty good. Beckett even released me from the infirmary, although I'm not supposed to do much walking yet. By next week I should be more or less mobile again, I'm hoping."

"That's good," he said, the words a little rushed, but he didn't move from his spot at the door. "Do you…need anything? Want anything? I can probably get my hands on some movies and a DVD player."

One of Lorne's eyebrows went up. "Nah, I'm about entertainmented out. Why don't you stay and chat for a bit? Most people have been too busy to stop and talk, and I'm getting a little lonely."

"I…ah…" He gestured to the door behind him with his thumb. "…I really should get going. I just wanted to see how you were."

Lorne's face fell a little. "Oh, yeah, I understand. Hey, if you find anyone who wants to play chess, will you send them my way? I used to play as a kid, and enforced vacation seems like as good a time as any to pick it back up."

"Sheppard plays…badly, but he plays. I'll mention it to him when I see him."

The soldier laughed. "Isn't he a math whiz though? He hides it well, but I'm pretty sure letting your senior officer know just how much stupider you are compared to him is not a stellar career move."

Rodney shrugged. "He could have been MENSA, but we all know where that ended up. And the game's all about strategy. I'm sure you could beat him."

Lorne grinned. "Right, because he's not a brilliant strategist either. I sometimes wonder if he does the whole lazy surfer thing to piss off all the superiors he's ever had on purpose. Because honestly, he's probably hands-down better than most of them, and he could have risen through the ranks a lot faster than he did. I like him. He's a good guy and a good officer, for a pilot."

Rodney rolled his eyes, a little bit of his nervous tension vanishing. "I'll make sure to let him know he has your approval."

"Nonono! Don't do that! I, um, I'm on some pretty good drugs, and I'm really bored. The combination is making me a bit more chatty than I think I probably should be."

"You deserve the good drugs," he said, sobering up immediately.

"Nah, I don't really like them, but the nurses threatened me if they catch me flushing them down the toilet again. Then I tried to see how many I could get to land in a hat, but they frowned on that too. The really scary one said she would get the big one to hold me down and force me to swallow them if I didn't start cooperating. So now I'm high as a kite."

Rodney felt his eyes widen. "Then…I should let you rest."

Lorne sighed. "You don't have to go. I'd really like the company. Do you play chess? I think I'd like to play chess."

"No, I really should go. Things to do, people to see. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get out of this room. I tried yesterday to go down to the mess hall on my own—I'm supposed to wait for the nurse to come get me—and man did that piss them off. I was about half-way there when she caught me and made me sit in the wheelchair. I mean really, was that necessary? I was doing just fine on my own."

"Fine, yeah..." he said, his mind's warning of 'bad idea, bad idea, bad idea' flashing brightly in his face. "I…ah…I need to go." He turned, opening the door and moving into the hall. He paused, one foot still inside. "I…feel better. I'm sorry about everything."

He moved back, letting the door close before Lorne could comment. The man was too drugged to run after him. And what was he doing trying to go to the mess on his own? He'd had surgery. He was injured. And it was all Rodney's fault.

The fear, nervousness, and guilt finally sent his churning stomach over the edge and he raced to the nearest bathroom, barely making it in time.

Several minutes later, he slumped against the cool wall, letting it support him, hold him upright as he pulled his legs up toward his chest, his stomach still threatening.

"Rodney?" Carson's soft voice came from the door. "I was on my way to check on Evan when I saw you come in here. Everything alright?"

He didn't answer, hoping that his silence would send the Scot away. He heard the other man shuffle closer, heard the crack of his joints as he knelt beside him.

A cool hand rested against his forehead briefly. "Stress?"

Rodney nodded, miserable.

Carson shifted into a sitting position across from him. He pulled out a box of mints from one of his pockets. "This is about the best I can offer you right now."

He took one, but held it in his hand. His voice when he spoke was quiet. "I should try to wash out my mouth first I think."

"Want me to get you a little water?"

Rodney nodded. "If you don't mind."

Nodding, Carson disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back, he had a small cup of water. He eased himself back down to the floor, handing it over. "Here you go."

Rodney took it without comment, taking several sips, swishing it around in his mouth before leaning over and spitting it out into the toilet. He did that several times—rinsing and spitting—wishing his stomach was more settled.

Leaning back against the wall, he took a deep breath, feeling his body shake a little. Popping the mint in his mouth, he wiped his hand against his pants, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling. "I really hurt the major, didn’t I?"

"Evan? Not nearly as much as you think. He's healing fast. And actually, I'm having to keep him on the drugs to keep him still. He's not in much pain even without them, so he wants to push it a little further than he should."

"It was harder to push the knife in than I thought it would be," he said quietly, the words whispered, echoing a little off the hard tile surrounding them.

"Oh?"

"I didn't want to hurt him. I tried to avoid the bone. It was so hard. I had to press, push it in…" He took a shuddering breath. "There was blood, lots of it."

Carson set one hand lightly on his leg, not pressing or pushing. "You did'na hit anything major. He is healing quickly and won't have any lingering problems."

Rodney nodded. "Good. I'm…I’m glad."

His friend squeezed his leg lightly, but didn't say anything.

The silence was thick, but not uncomfortable. "I'm glad I didn't have to kill him. I…I don't know if…" His stomach threatened again as the images flashed in his mind, the things Kramer had wanted him to do.

"But you didn't have to."

"I almost did."

"But you didn't. Dwelling on might-have-beens will drive you crazy. All of us wonder what might have happened if things had been different, for better or worse. But the only thing that counts is what did happen, and Evan is very much alive and well."

"He's drugged to the gills!"

Carson chuckled. "Aye, but not because he needs it for pain. The man took a page out of the Colonel's book of injury recovery and tried to walk before he should. He's not on anything all that strong, he just tends to react to certain drugs. I knew this one makes it almost impossible for him to not say whatever's on his mind, so my nurses have a fighting chance of knowing when he's planning to make an escape attempt."

Another moment passed and Rodney finally realized where he was, embarrassment setting in. "I…ah…I should get up and get back to…stuff. You know."

Carson smiled. "Aye, all right. I need to return the cup to Evan." Standing, he held out a hand. "Why don't you meet me later for dinner? I'll bring the food, you pick the place?"

Grabbing the offered hand, he gave the Doctor an odd look. "Why?"

"Peace offering." Carson gave him a shy smile. "I feel bad about yesterday. I din'na want to drive you away. I promise, no pushing on my part. Just dinner and friendly conversation."

He stared at Beckett for a long moment before nodding. "End of the East Pier?"

"I get off my shift at 2000, so I'll swing by the mess and then meet you there. Any special requests?"

"No, nothing," he said, standing in the middle of the bathroom as Carson headed for the door. "Thanks."

"You are very much welcome, and thank you. I'll see you in a few hours. If you're stomach is still bothering you in a bit, stop by the infirmary and I'll give you something a little stronger than a mint."

He nodded again, letting Carson leave. Taking a few minutes to straighten himself out, he headed out into the hall. He had a few hours to kill before dinner and a walk seemed like the best thing to do.

***

Carson glanced at his watch for what he was sure was the millionth time that afternoon. It was a good thing he wasn’t seeing patients today, but just doing paperwork.

Finally. It was time to go off shift, so with a quick overview with Lindsay Biro of what she was walking into and patient status, he headed out, leaving his lab coat in his office. Stopping by the mess, he picked up the bag of food he had gotten one of the cooks to put together for him.

Sometimes being well-liked paid off.

When he arrived at the East Pier, he didn’t see Rodney yet, so he found a somewhat comfortable spot and sat down, leaning against a railing and closing his eyes. The sound of the waves hitting the edge of the city was soothing, and he decided yet again to try and get out here more often. It always took him by surprise how peaceful it was here, no matter how many times he came.

He heard footfalls before he spotted Rodney, the man dressed casually in jeans and a few layered T-shirts. He was off duty, so it made sense that he'd be comfortable. He had a sheepish expression on his face when he finally stopped a few feet away.

"Sorry I’m late. I was…I was walking before and time got a way from me."

"That's quite all right. I was just enjoying the quiet. I forget how much I like coming out here." Smiling, he waved for Rodney to sit down and join him.

"There's never time," McKay said, scowling a little as he sat down, trying to get comfortable on the hard surface.

"Aye, which is probably why I stay away just long enough to forget, despite promising myself I won't do that again. Help yourself." Beckett pushed the food over and leaned back again.

Rodney poked around, grabbing a sandwich and a bottle of water. He hummed as he took a large bite.

Carson chuckled and pulled another sandwich out, letting the silence stretch comfortably. He realized he recognized the tune Rodney was humming softly after a few minutes. "Is that Beethoven?"

"What?" he asked, inhaling a little of the sandwich as he turned.

"What you were humming. It sounded like Beethoven's Fifth."

"Really? Huh. I usually prefer the Ninth."

He couldn't help the laugh at Rodney's expression. "I could have been wrong. I thought I recognized it, but I don't know the symphonies well enough to positively identify them from humming. I did'na know you liked classical."

Rodney shrugged. "I wanted to be a pianist. That didn't work out, so here I am."

"Really? Wow. I'd love to hear you play some time. Playing an instrument was always a skill I was jealous of in other people. I appreciate music, but I'm a bit tone deaf, so I could never play."

"I…no, I don't play anymore." Rodney glanced away, something Carson couldn't quite make out flashing across his friend's face.

"That's a shame." Remembering Kate's advice, Carson let the silence grow after that, wondering if she was right that Rodney would eventually feel compelled to fill it.

Sure enough, he did, after finishing his sandwich, his now empty hand tapping against his leg. "I saw you out here the other night."

He looked over, surprised. "When?"

"The day…night I had my 'prison' break."

He raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

"You were talking to John on your radio. If you had turned to the left you would have spotted me," he said, a sheepish expression on his face, his eyes fixed on his pant leg.

Carson laughed quietly. "Either you're a good hider, or I'm a pretty poor finder."

Rodney pointed toward one of the outcroppings. "I was in the shadows, watching the water. Kind of out of the way."

"It's a good place for that."

He nodded. "Peaceful."

"Aye, that it is."

Silence stretched out again only to be filled once again by Rodney's quiet chatter. "I'm going to miss this."

"Miss what?"

"This." His hands gestured in a vague circle.

Carson eyed his friend. This was where he had to tread carefully he knew. "Oh?"

"I told Elizabeth I wanted to go back to Earth. I thought you knew and that was why you asked to have dinner."

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force himself to stay calm. "No, I had'na heard. Why do you want to leave?"

"I can't stay here anymore."

"Why?"

"It's just…" Rodney sighed. "I just can't, okay?"

Carson let his own sigh out. "No, it's not really okay, but I won't push. I promised I wouldn't."

McKay looked surprised, but the corner of his mouth turned up for a moment. "I…thanks. I appreciate it."

Carson smiled sadly, and let the silence stretch again. He wished he knew what to say to change Rodney's mind, but that decision was one the physicist had to come to on his own. Standing on the sidelines really sucked sometimes.

"Well, this is awkward." Rodney was always the blunt one.

"Not really. It's peaceful. I don't get to just enjoy the company of my friends nearly as often as I'd like."

"I really thought you knew," Rodney said, his expression bordering on misery. "I didn't mean to drop it on you."

"It's, well I won't say it's okay, but really, don't worry about it. I don't agree with the decision, but it's yours to make. I'd rather be your friend and give you what support you'll accept than be at odds with you."

"It's just that I…I don't think I can do this again, have to go through something like this."

Carson nodded. "I don't blame you. Losing control is a horrible experience."

"It's just that next time I don't know if I'll be able to fight back at all. It hurt…so much."

Closing his eyes, Carson let the pain wash over him. "Sometimes oblivion is a seductive option when more pain hovers on the horizon. But it's okay to be human. I think we all forget that sometimes."

He chuckled humorlessly. "I've never been classified as that."

With a quiet snort, Carson shook his head. "You know, it surprises me sometimes how much you and I are alike in a lot of ways. But as I've had rammed down my throat recently, we are human. And it's okay to reach the end of what we can cope with alone. That was a hard one for me to swallow, too."

"Why? What's wrong with you?" The questions were sharp.

He sighed. "Don't worry about it. You've enough on your plate without my problems too."

"No. What's wrong?"

Carson looked over at him, letting down his guard for a moment. In some ways, he needed Rodney to know he wasn't alone, even if it didn't change his mind. "The system. I still have...issues with what happened, what it did to me."

"But you're fine."

With a short laugh, he leaned back against the railing again. "I'm on my way to being fine again, but I'm not there yet. A night without nightmares would be a good start."

"You have nightmares? About what?" Rodney shuffled over a little so he could lean against the wall.

With a swallow, Carson realized he had walked right into this. With a silent prayer, he hoped he was doing the right thing, sharing. That this wouldn't push Rodney further away. "Being trapped. It used pain to keep me under control, keep me from interfering. When we returned, it tried to bargain with the Colonel to get me back. If it had, if John hadn't found a way out, I'm afraid I would have chosen to slip into oblivion rather than face the endless pain of fighting. I've re-lived it almost every night since we got back the first time."

"Oh." The word was breathy and filled with a strange pain.

Carson shuddered slightly—the flashbacks had gotten quite a bit less frequent and powerful, but thinking about it still made him queasy. "But as I said, I'm working on it. I'm not fine yet, but I will be, in time."

"It's always the same for me," Rodney said his voice quiet, his head down, his hands shaking. "Kramer is…I can't move, can't tell him no and it hurts so badly. Then it changes and I'm standing over someone…you, John, Lorne…it doesn't matter, it all ends the same with blood on my hands and one of you dying."

Not knowing what to say, Carson reached over and put a hand on Rodney's arm, offering silent comfort and reassurance.

Rodney took a breath, half sounding like a sob. "And what really scares me…at that point if he asked me to do it, to kill you, not even ordering me, I think I would have just to make the pain stop."

"You're human. It's okay. I know—I understand."

"I…I'd thought I was safe here, or as safe as we could be. To have something like this happen here, on Atlantis…and no one could help me…" He pulled his legs up toward his chest. "Now you know why I have to leave. I can't stay here…not like this."

Carson stared out at the waves. "I'm terrified that wasn't the end of it. Before we left, the system made it clear that was'na the only facility, that there are other planets, other back-up copies of the facilities there. I could walk in to an Ancient outpost and before I know it be trapped again. I understand, Rodney." He sighed. "If a way to get relief had been offered, I don't know that I wouldn't have taken it. I know it's not the same. You had a much worse time of it and I won't tell you what to do. All I can offer my opinion, if you'll hear it."

Rodney shrugged, but he didn't tell him no.

"I know you don'na feel safe, can'na feel safe because of what happened, because of the situation you were in. We all feel horrible about what happened, that we couldn't protect you, that Kramer was able to get to you so early on…" Carson paused, taking a breath because that pain, that guilt, was something he knew would take a long time to go away. "But what makes you think that Earth is any safer than Atlantis? You could be playing right into the Trust's hands." He saw Rodney flinch and continued gentler. "I know this is your decision to make. But you don'na have to make it alone, go through this alone. I can honestly say it was only when Teyla finally convinced me I had to let down the walls and stop trying to deal with it alone, that it did get better. Slowly, but I'll take what I can get."

"I just don't see how." The words were quiet but wrenched from deep inside. "I'm just so tired."

"You aren't alone. I won't lie to you—there will be some days that are better than others. But you will wake up one day and realize the pain has eased off. But until then, on the bad days, knowing there's someone to lean against can be a great comfort."

Rodney didn't say anything, huddling in on himself a little more, his eyes glazed as he stared out at the rippling water.

Carson scooted over close enough to not touch, but let Rodney know he was there. "You're not alone," he said quietly.

"But I was." The reply was whispered, nearly torn away by a gust of wind.

"Not any more."

He made a sound Carson couldn't figure out and leaned his forehead against his upraised knees, hiding his face, his hands turning white where they gripped each other too tightly.

Reaching over, Carson put one hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Not any more," he repeated quietly.

Rodney didn't reply, his body shaking under Carson's hand.

They sat like that for a while, each lost in their own thoughts and memories. When Rodney's trembling finally stopped and he raised his head, Carson caught his eye and gave him a weak smile. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

He snorted, nodding slightly, rubbing a hand roughly across his face.

"Feel any better?"

"Not really, no. Have a pretty bad headache."

"I'm not surprised. I have some painkillers in my quarters. Why don't we head there? This way neither of us has to go near the infirmary for anything. Honestly, they'd probably admit us both if we did, and I don't really want to spend the night there."

"I…" he said, obviously trying to protest, but he nodded instead, wincing at the movement. "Okay."

Carson stood, reaching back a hand to help Rodney to his feet. "I still have some sleeping pills, too—Kate and Lindsay would have a collective fit if they knew I was'na taking them. Tonight, however, I think we both need a good night of uninterrupted sleep. You can take the bed…I...don't really want to sleep alone if it's all right with you." He would sleep better with someone else nearby, but more importantly, so would Rodney. Although asking him to do it as a favor was the only way he knew he had a shot at it.

Rodney wavered a little once he got his feet under him, closing his eyes as Carson's hand steadied him. "That sounded a little like a proposition, Doctor," he finally said, a smirk on his face, albeit edged with pain.

"Hmph. You wish. I'll have you know I'm quite the catch when it comes to the bedroom. You, however, will have to take my word for it." Carson kept a hand near Rodney's elbow in case he stumbled again as they started back.

The physicist didn't comment during the long walk to Carson's quarters, seemingly more intent on putting one foot in front of the other. He did lose his balance a few times along the way, causing Carson to hold on a little more tightly to his friend's arm. Apart from a pain-filled scowl, Rodney didn't say anything.

When they arrived, Carson got Rodney seated on the bed, and got two glasses of water. Setting one down, he handed the other to Rodney, along with two pills. "Here, take these then kick off your shoes and get comfortable."

"But—"

Carson held up his own pills and water glass, even as he toed off his shoes and sat on the edge of the cot he kept in his room in case he needed to keep an overnight patient. "I can'na take mine until you take yours."

Rodney sighed putting the water and pills on the bedside table before he leaned down to untie his shoes, nearly toppling over in the process, his outstretched hand managing to grab onto the side of the bed to stop his tumble.

"Rodney!" Carson moved quickly to his side, helping him get the shoes off and situated. "My friend, you need a good night's sleep badly. This will help."

"But I’m in your bed," he protested weakly after swallowing the pills Carson had put back into his hand.

"I've got a cot, and it won't be the first time I've used it. Now lie back and get comfortable." He smiled even as he pushed Rodney towards the pillow.

"Bossy."

.

With a laugh, he patted Rodney's shoulder and moved back over to his own sleeping arrangements, popping the pill along the way. "You're just now realizing that?"

"Not exactly," he said, rubbing at his temples with his hand.

"Professional hazard. What can I say?"

After the snort from the bed, they both went silent, and after a short while Rodney’s breathing evened out into the quiet rhythms of sleep. With a final quiet sigh, Carson stopped fighting his own rest, and slipped into the quiet sleep of the drugged.

***

Rodney McKay woke slowly, his face mashed into a pillow, his back aching in places he'd forgotten he had.

Blearily opening an eye, the room swam into view—and he didn't recognize anything.

Shoving himself upright on unsteady and rubbery arms, he was happy to discover he was still fully dressed—apart from his boots that he spotted on the floor next to the bed. His brain was fuzzy and being upright at this moment was almost too much for his head to take.

Letting himself slump back into the bed, he tried to think back to remember what happened the night before and how he managed to wake up in a strange room.

A chipper voice helped answer his question a moment later.

"Good morning!" Carson sounded a little too happy to be awake, although there was still a hint of sleep-slur, so the other man hadn't been up long.

Rodney groaned into the pillow.

"What time is it? I can'na see the clock from here."

"I don't know," he finally answered, refusing to move.

Carson grumbled something, but then he heard the sound of him getting out of bed. "Oh shit. I was supposed to be on shift an hour ago!" He heard him grab something off a table nearby. "Infirmary, this is Beckett. I seem to have overslept this morning. I'm going to grab a shower, and I'll be there ASAP."

Rodney listened to the other man stumbling around in the half-light of the room before he asked the question that was running through his mind.

"How did I get here?"

The room was suddenly dead silent. "We had dinner last night, and we both needed a good night's sleep. I did'na want you to take a sleeping pill without supervision, and honestly I didn'na want to take one without someone else nearby either, so you slept here. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Dinner…" He answered after a moment, shifting through his fragmented memories. "I think I had a headache."

"Aye, I gave you a painkiller as well." Carson suddenly was sitting on the bed next to him. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah. Your mattress must be made for Torquemada. How do you sleep on it?" He paused again. "And what did you give me? I'm never this groggy in the morning."

"There's a bottle of over-the-counter strength ibuprofen on the desk if you need it. The bed is'na that comfortable, but I've never gotten around to finding another mattress." He moved into the bathroom, his voice getting slightly muffled. "And I gave you a sleeping pill, the same one Kate pushed off on me a few weeks ago. I din'na like them, but we both needed a good, long, uninterrupted sleep. Once you get moving the grogginess will fade off."

Rodney shifted on the bed, his back protesting and he groaned again. He was never going to walk again, but right now moving was too much trouble. He listened to Carson as he got ready for his shift: the sound of the shower, the faucet as he shaved and brushed his teeth, the sound of bare feet against the floor as he padded around the room, the rustle of fabric.

He heard a soft chuckle as the doctor moved back into the main room. "Here, I'll make it easy for you." He moved a bottle from the desk to the bedside, along with a glass of water. "Feel free to stay as long as you want."

"Thanks," he finally said, opening an eye to see exactly where Carson left the items, offering a slightly drugged and groggy smile.

He chuckled again, and patted Rodney's leg. "If I was'na needed, I'd stay until you were up and about. Come find me later if you want some company."

"'kay," he said into the pillow, closing his eye again. He listened as Carson moved around the room, his footsteps louder now that his boots were on. And with a brief salutation, he was gone, leaving Rodney alone in the room, the silence loud. He finally managed to struggle from the bed to answer the call of nature. But he quickly returned to the warm nest of blankets.

Before he climbed in, he dumped two pills in his hand, and took a sip of the water, washing them down. Groaning, he slid back into the bed and dragged the covers up over his body as he tried to get comfortable before finally ending up on his stomach once again.

He drifted in and out of sleep for most of the morning, waking once again when the bed dipped and a light touch was on his shoulder.

"I was'na expecting you to still be here. You must have been more exhausted than I thought."

"What time is it?"

"Just after noon. I was dropping by to change my shirt—there was a slight cough syrup accident—before heading to the mess for lunch."

"Oh."

"How are you feeling? Any better?"

Rodney sighed into the pillow. "Not really, no."

Carson rubbed his back briefly before standing up, and Rodney heard him rooting around in the drawer. "Then go back to sleep, it's probably the best thing for you. I'll grab you a PowerBar to eat first in just a moment."

"Not hungry."

"At least try to get it down. You had a good dinner last night, but I din'na want to come back later to find you passed out because of hypoglycemia." A chocolate peanut butter bar appeared in his line of vision.

Rodney groaned again before he finally started moving, eventually managing to get himself sitting upright in Carson's bed, his back leaning against the pillows the other man had moved and propped against the wall. Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to wake up, but his mind was spinning much slower than normal. Giving up, he grabbed for the PowerBar lying on the table, opening it slowly. Taking a bite, he grimaced but swallowed it down.

"When was the last time you got any real sleep?" Carson had sat back down on the end of the bed.

He shrugged as he took another bite, using the time to think. "Whenever I got tired enough."

"Let me re-phrase that. When was the last time you got any decent rest?"

Rodney shrugged again, refusing to meet Carson's eyes. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to sleep. But, when he was woken every hour or so by nightmares, sleeping became less of a priority. "I don't remember."

Carson sighed softly. "You mentioned nightmares yesterday. I did'na realize they were that bad. You're more than welcome to stay here as long as you want—I slept better knowing there was someone else nearby too, so I don't mind the company."

"No…this is your room. I…can't." He paused, his fingers playing with the wrapper. "Besides your mattress will make me a cripple if I stay here much longer."

"One of these days I'll get around to finding a better one. If nothing else, it keeps me away from the temptation of being a slug-a-bed. But really, I don't mind the company, Rodney. You're always welcome, and I'm always free to come crash on your floor if you're that attached to your mattress." He offered a small grin.

"No, that's okay. I should go," he said, grimacing as he pushed back the blankets.

Carson put a hand on his chest, pushing back lightly. "I have to head back out, my break is almost over. Take your time."

He nodded, letting the other man manhandle him against the pillows.

Carson stood back up, stretching slightly as he did. "I get off at 2000 again, so if you want company for dinner, come find me. Take it easy for the rest of the day."

Rodney nodded again, taking another bite of the PowerBar, as Carson patted him on the leg and moved to the door, disappearing into the hall a few beats later. He finished the bar slowly, adding two more ibuprofen to the mix as he drank the rest of the water in the glass, shoving the wrapper in the empty container before he scooted back down the bed, half supported by the pillows.

He knew he should leave, but that required too much effort. So instead he stayed right where he was, eventually falling back asleep to the whoosh of the overhead ventilation system.

***

It had been a quiet afternoon in the infirmary, and Carson was caught up on his paperwork for once, so he had retired to the lab. It was nice to be able to fiddle with research when there wasn’t life-or-death and rush-rush-rush hovering over him.

He let himself get lost for a while in the familiar and fascinating rhythms of work. When he got to a point where he needed to change out slides, he turned around and started when he found John Sheppard standing right behind him. “Bloody hell! Someone needs to put bells on you or something.”

"Sorry," he apologized, without sincerity. "You seen McKay?"

"Last I saw him he was in my room, sleeping. I don't think he's really gotten a good night of rest in weeks, so I was more than happy to give up my bed for the cause. I've no idea if he's still there or not. Why?"

"What's he doing in your room?" John shook his head, a hand running through his hair. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Elizabeth just gave me the news that he's headed back to Earth in a week."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Don't even go there, Colonel. My guess is that when he finally found a bed with no bad memories associated with it, his body decided to take advantage. And aye, he told me he had put in a request to return."

"Why aren't you in there talking him out of it?"

Blinking at the heat in the other man's voice, Carson leaned back a bit to put some space between them. "First off, because I don't think anyone can talk him out of anything. It's got to be his decision. Second of all, we did talk for a long time last night, probably more than he's talked to anyone since everything happened. I don't know if I said anything to change his mind, but I hope I gave him a few new things to think about."

"That's it?" Exasperation and disbelief filled Sheppard's voice.

"What do you want me to tell you? I got him to talk. And that was a huge step forward—no one had managed to get him to do more than say he was fine before that. I know why he wants to leave, and I did my best to give him reasons why he shouldn't, but trying to push him will only drive him away faster."

"Give the man a medal," he replied sarcastically. "If we don't _do_ something he's going to be stepping through the Stargate in a week and we'll have nothing."

Carson scowled at him. "I am doing something. I'm being his friend and reminding him that he's not alone. I think that's probably the best chance we have of convincing him to stay. If you have a better suggestion, I'd love to hear it."

"Apart from tying him to a fucking bed and making sure he doesn't leave? No, nothing. I can't talk to him anymore."

Sheppard had moved forward into Carson's personal space as his voice got harsher. Beckett tried to push the stool he was sitting on back a bit. "Tying him down will only exacerbate the situation. And yelling at him won't do any good either—I've tried that route myself with no success. He's scared, terrified that this will happen again. This used to be a safe place—relatively speaking—but that's changed dramatically for him now. The only thing that seems to be getting through at all is just letting him know he has friends and letting him make the decision to talk instead of forcing him into it. I know it's frustrating, and I'm terrified we won't be able to convince him to stay, but I don't know that there's anything else we can do."

The Colonel turned abruptly and stalked off, stopping a few feet away before he whirled around again. "I did not go through weeks of sheer hell just to have him walk away."

Carson's temper finally broke, and he found himself standing in Sheppard's face, his volume steadily increasing as he spoke. "You went through hell? What did you think I was doing, playing Solitaire? I nearly lost myself not once but twice to a deranged system. I spent weeks trying desperately to reverse genetic changes to one of my best friends, not knowing if one wrong move could kill him or worse. I was electrocuted and nearly died because the bloody bastard controlling Rodney wanted me out of the way. You've been through hell? I don't want to hear it!"

Sheppard took a step back, before his own anger surfaced again, moving him forward. "And I couldn't do anything to protect either of you! I had to sit on the sidelines and wait while you pulled something out of your ass, not knowing if it would work or if he'd end up screaming himself to death because the god damned machine decided to play one last trick on us. You at least had some control over what happened. I had to wait and watch and pray that nothing else happened to either one of you. This happened on my watch, Beckett! My watch."

Carson was shaking he was so angry, and the far corner of his mind that wasn't caught up in it was grateful the lab had been empty except for them. "And you think that somehow makes you better? Somehow that makes it okay, that you had to sit back and let me do my job instead of being the one who had to worry about what would happen if things went wrong? You weren't the one who had to make the decisions—I knew, far better than you, what could happen if I screwed up. And I have to live with the fact that none of this would have happened if I hadn't fucked up in the first place. So I din'na want to hear about you going through hell, or that you don't think I'm doing enough to keep Rodney here. I can't...I don't know..."

As suddenly as his anger had come on, it now drained out of him. He managed to get himself into a chair, and put his head down. “I’m sorry, John. I just—God, you have no idea.”

Sheppard's voice was quiet when he finally answered. "I'm starting to get the picture."

"I'm doing everything I can, the best I can, to keep Rodney here. I don't know what else I can do at this point."

"What can I do?"

Looking up, Carson gave him a tired smile. "Be his friend. Let him know you don't agree with the decision, and you'd like him to change it, but that you'll support him either way. He needs to know he isn't alone, no matter what he feels he needs to do."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m not sure how…calm and level that comment will end up being."

"Getting angry at him will only drive him away, and that does'na do anyone any good. He's scared, John—of what happened to him, that it might happen again. We were supposed to be able to protect him but we couldn't. He knows it as well as we do. And we can't guarantee something like that won't happen again—not with the way our luck runs in this galaxy."

"I know," he said, sighing again.

A knock on the door jolted them out of their thoughts.

"Anne…ah, Anne said you were in here," Rodney said, hesitating, his hands clutched together. "Am I interrupting something?"

Carson sat up straight and gestured him in. "Not at all. What can I do for you? You look a bit better than you did earlier."

"My back will never be the same," he commented, his eyes shifting between the two men. "It's a little before 2000 and you'd said…" His voice trailed off as he shrugged.

Glancing at his watch, Carson shook his head. "I did'na realize it had gotten so late. Have you eaten, because I'm suddenly ravenous?"

"No, I'm not very hungry, but you mentioned dinner…" Rodney shrugged again, obviously feeling some of the tension between him and Sheppard because he was very tentative.

Taking a deep breath, he let go of the last of his anger and then smiled at Rodney. "Why don't we grab something then? I don't actually think I've eaten today."

Rodney glanced at Sheppard briefly before looking back at Carson and nodding. "Sure."

"Colonel, care to join us?" Carson started towards his office, stopping to look at a chart a nurse handed him, then shrugging out of his lab coat and draping it over a chair.

"You obviously have plans…" Sheppard began, only to have Carson cut him off.

"We're having dinner, and then relaxing a bit. Quite frankly, you look like you could use some down time. Think of it as a medical order—you can come eat with us, or you can go do something on your own, but either way, you need to let yourself unwind a bit."

"If it's me, I can just go find another bed," Rodney said, obviously offering the Colonel an excuse.

Carson snorted. "The two of you are like children sometimes. The three of us used to have dinner together all the time, tonight is no different." He didn't give either of them time to protest further, simply walking out and heading for the mess hall.

Footsteps sounded behind him—a pair of them—but the silence was thick.

With an internal sigh, he realized he was going to have to be the one to move things along. He slowed his steps enough to allow them both to catch up. "I have'na heard much of what's been going on around here lately. Anything interesting, Colonel?"

Sheppard looked surprised by the question, but answered. "Not much as far as I can see. Weir forced me to take two vacation days, but other than Ronon pounding the Marines into the ground during their daily training sessions, nothing big." He shrugged. "Zelenka's been busy, but I don't think anyone's blown up the labs yet."

Rodney snorted at the comment, but didn't add anything.

"You actually took the vacation days?"

"I…ah, didn't have the choice."

"Aye, but you have'na exactly been scarce. Did you really stop working, or just manage to do it where she could'na see you?" He lifted an eyebrow at the soldier.

"Little of both," he answered, shrugging. "Actually, Teyla mentioned something about wanting to head to the mainland. We should head over there for the day."

Reaching the transport, Carson waved his hand in front of the sensor to make the door open. "Actually, I've been meaning to get out there to do a medical check for a while now. What are you doing tomorrow? Rodney, care to come along? I can always use an extra set of hands, and the fresh air would do you good."

McKay had stopped a few feet back, his eyes wide. "I'm not sure—"

"Oh, come on," Sheppard said with an easy-going smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, as he grabbed the scientist's arm, hauling him into the transporter. "We'll get you a nice quiet place to nap and we'll bring food. Oh, and have you tried the cake yet?"

"It's…pink," Rodney finally said, not moving away from Sheppard.

"It's chocolate! Who cares what color it is?" Carson grinned, stepping out when they reached the hallway outside. It was late enough that most people had already eaten and left, with only a few scattered souls finishing their meals. Picking up a tray, he got a piece of the not-lasagna, and the cake, because, well, chocolate.

Sheppard was explaining how they'd found the strange root vegetable for the cake, holding a tray in his hands and managing to put food on his tray and Rodney's while he talked. Nervously.

Carson really didn't care how they managed it, but he wanted to encourage the Colonel and hopefully put Rodney at ease, so he paid enough attention to ask a few questions as they sat down. "You know, why doesn't botany just have a few cocoa and coffee plants brought in, and we can make our own real stuff? I've always wondered that."

"Soil," Rodney answered mid-chew.

With his fork halfway up, Carson paused. "Soil? What does that have to do with it?"

"It's different enough that the Earth plants have trouble with it." He scowled. "If it were simply a matter of re-planting don't you think we would have done that as soon as we got here?"

"To be honest, I never gave it any thought. Dirt is dirt, isn't it?"

This time Rodney rolled his eyes. "No."

"Huh. What's different about it?"

"Does it matter? It's different, and we can't grow Earth plants in Pegasus. That's all that counts in the long run." He scowled again, turning back to play with the food on his tray. His eyebrow rose when he spotted several items. Apparently, he hadn’t been paying attention to what John was doing when they arrived in the mess hall.

Carson fought down a laugh as he noted what John had given the astrophysicist for dinner. He had managed to pick all items of the neon variety, starting with the pink cake, right down to the day-glo vegetable thing. "Colorful dinner you have there."

"It's…I think someone's true age is showing," Rodney said, glaring across the table at Sheppard.

Carson didn't bother to fight the laugh this time. "I can'na believe you didn't notice when he was doing it."

"He was talking," Rodney protested. "It was distracting."

John gave them both a weak grin. “He looked like he needed more color in his diet.”

Carson chuckled again, the look on Rodney’s face was priceless.

McKay sputtered once, before scowling into his food.

They each finished their dinner in a relatively comfortable silence, the tension from before having eased off. Carson was even pleased to see Rodney ate most of what was on his plate, odd colors notwithstanding.

Rodney glanced at Sheppard for a long moment, puzzlement on his face.

Sipping at a cup of coffee, John caught the gaze. "What?"

"I guess I'm just surprised you're not yelling. I mean, after the last conversation we had I figured that's what this was going to be all about."

Carson saw the soldier give him a guilty glance before looking back at Rodney. "Yeah, well, it was pointed out to me that yelling probably wasn't the best course of action."

"Oh, really?" You couldn't mistake the sarcasm in Rodney's voice. "Since when do you listen to anyone other than yourself?"

"Look, I was a bit of an ass, and I'm sorry. I, uh, really, really wish you would change your mind, and yeah, I'd kinda like to be yelling right now, but I'm trying okay?"

Rodney's eyebrow rose, but he didn't pursue the subject with Sheppard, turning instead to Carson. "Did you threaten him with big needles?"

"Amazingly enough, I did'na need to go that far. He actually listened to reason for a change. Of course, the fact that I might have done a wee bit of yelling of my own directed solely at him probably had something to do with it, as well."

"I know."

"You do?"

"You need to close your door the next time."

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Carson looked down at his plate. "Sorry. I sort of lost my temper a bit. I did'na realize anyone else could hear."

"Well, I was standing outside. It was hard to miss."

"I'm sorry." Pausing, Carson went back over the conversation in his head. "What else did you overhear?"

This time Rodney ducked his head. "A good portion of it I imagine."

"Oh."

"Yeah…sorry."

"Nothing for you to be sorry about, we should have been quieter. Or better yet, I should have controlled my temper a bit better. So?"

It took a minute for Rodney to answer, Sheppard shooting Carson a panicked look during the silence. "What I heard surprised me."

"Is that good or bad?" Carson ignored Sheppard for the moment, hoping the soldier had the good sense to keep his mouth shut unless Rodney asked him something directly.

"I…I'm not sure. I didn't think…realize how much this affected you—both of you."

Choosing his words carefully, he spoke slowly. "We're your friends, Rodney. Did you think we wouldn't get upset that you want to leave?"

Rodney's eyes were fixed on the nearly empty bottle of water he'd grabbed with dinner. "After all of this…not really, no."

Carson's eyes widened a bit in shock. "Of course we would—we are. Most of the city feels the same way, at least those who have heard."

He shrugged, not commenting, his fingers playing with the bottle's label.

"Rodney..." Beckett sighed. "I don't know what else I can say that I have'na already. You know we don'na want you to leave, but as I said before, I promised not to push so I won't."

McKay was silent for another long moment. "I…I’m not sure if I can stay, but if I try…do you promise not to tie me to a bed?"

Sheppard held up one hand, putting the other over his heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Carson nearly doubled over at that. “Oh my, God. Rodney’s right. You are a twelve-year-old girl.”

Rodney scowled at both of them across the table. "I was serious, you know."

Sobering up, Carson nodded at him. "I know. And no, we won't tie you down or anything idiotic like that. The Colonel wanted to make you stay, so the point would be moot anyway."

"Granted, it seems to give me a window into what he's like behind closed doors and I think I may have reached a point of TMI."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow at him, but purposely kept his tone light. "Not into kink, McKay? I think I may be disappointed."

"That is something that I intend for you never to find out."

"Ah, we finally agree on something!" John wore the first genuine smile Carson had seen on him since all this started.

Rodney shook his head, a matching smile of its own threatening.

Chuckling, Carson felt something tight in his chest ease off a bit. Maybe things would be okay after all.

***

The day of his departure came and went, much to Rodney's surprise.

He'd spent the intervening time with John, Beckett, Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne, talking a little, walking a lot, slowly regaining some of the equilibrium he'd lost.

He finally managed to sleep an entire night in his own room—his new room complete with all of his stuff—without drugs and without a nightmare. Carson thought it was a sign that he'd turned the corner, whatever that was. With the voodoo he tended to practice anything was possible.

Today, though, he'd managed to slide away from everyone, spending a good portion of the day on his own—which was why he found himself standing outside the Atlantis brig.

"Sir?" The Marine on guard eyed him uncomfortably. "Can I help you with something?"

"He alone?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want to talk to him." Rodney tried to hide his nervousness. He really didn't want to do this, but he had to.

The soldier shifted uncomfortably. "I'll have to clear it with Colonel Sheppard. He's given orders..."

"I cleared it with him already."

"He didn't tell me about it, sir..."

Rodney bristled. "I promise not to touch anything. I just need to ask him a few questions about the systems he broke into. I don't have all day."

The soldier hesitated again, looking unsure.

"This is wasting time, time that I could be spending in there asking the questions I need answered."

The soldier stared at him for a long time, then finally nodded. "All right, sir. I'll give you ten minutes, and I have to insist you don't touch anything."

"Ten minutes and then what?" Rodney scowled at the other man before rolling his eyes. "Yes, fine. No touching. I have no intention of touching anything."

"Ten minutes and then I'll have to ask you to leave." He stepped aside to allow Rodney access to the room.

Shaking his head, McKay stepped into the room, muttering under his breath. It was dark, apart from the spotlight illuminating the cell in the center of the room. Vaguely Rodney realized that this was the same cell they'd kept the Wraith Steve in some time ago.

The door slid shut and he moved a few steps forward, his heart pounding in his chest. Kramer looked…dangerous, even more so than before. He was unshaven and rumpled, but for some reason it gave the Englishman a much more sinister air.

He looked up, and on seeing who it was, rose to his feet, an odd gleam in his eyes. "Rodney."

"Doctor McKay to you."

Kramer stalked to the side of the cell. "After all we've been through together? I don't think so, Rodney."

"Oh, I do." Rodney moved a few steps away, trying to keep his nervousness at bay. "Why? Why me?" he finally blurted out. He had to know. Why had Kramer picked him?

"Why you what?" Kramer moved again, shifting around the cell to try and get closer. "You would have made an excellent slave."

Rodney took a deep breath, trying to keep himself under control. "Why did you fixate on me? Was it the stupid accident or was it something else?"

Kramer gave the low, chilling laugh Rodney had come to hate. "Why does it matter? You were mine, belonged to me. I underestimated you, I admit, but just a few more seconds and I could have had all the time in the world to rectify that."

"I belong to no one."

"Ah, but you did. Tell me, do you lie in bed at night and dream of ways to please me still? Do you crave my approval?"

"No," he said, the words pushed through gritted teeth. He still dreamed. He couldn't help it. As much as he wanted Kramer out of his life, his mind, the memories were still there as clear as day. They still haunted him, made him doubt himself, his friends, his safety, his own sexuality. Kramer had taken away his self-image, his confidence in who he was, and Rodney did not know if he'd ever get that back.

"I think you do. I think you want to obey me even now, even without the compulsion. Will you open the cell for me, Rodney? Let me free, and submit?"

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "You took something that wasn't yours in the first place. You forced me to betray my friends and this expedition. And so help me, I will do everything to make sure you suffer for the rest of your natural life."

"We both know you didn't come here to threaten me. If you wanted to harm me, you would have found a way already. No, you crave submission, approval. You want to give up responsibility and kneel before me."

Rodney flushed—more from anger than embarrassment. "What is it with you and your delusions of grandeur? Are you taking your cues from the Goa'uld now?"

"Do you really believe your so-called friends can keep me here forever? I will eventually be freed, and then I will find you. The slave gene made it easier, yes, but I don't need it to teach you obedience. I will rise to power, and be trusted as one of Ba'al's right-hand men for the wealth of knowledge I will present to him."

"Well, that answers my question," Rodney muttered taking a few steps away from the cell.

"You can't escape me, Rodney. You belong to me, and I will reclaim you."

"Over my dead body," he said, his feet already moving him toward the door. Why had he come here? This didn't seem like a good idea anymore.

"No, Rodney, your body will be alive and willing, yearning for my touch, my approval."

With Kramer's words echoing in his ears, McKay swallowed thickly and stepped out into the hall, nearly bowling over the Marine.

"Sir? Are you okay?" He reached out and lightly grabbed Rodney's elbow, keeping him from running into a wall.

"Let go of me!" he yelled, wrenching his arm from the soldier, racing down the hall and ignoring the calls from the other man.

Finding the nearest balcony, he leaned over the rail, his stomach threatening to expel its meager contents. It took him a few minutes to get himself back under control and he really wasn't surprised to hear the doors slide open behind him.

"Rodney?" Sheppard actually sounded hesitant. "Scott called and said he let you visit Kramer, and you left screaming."

"I wasn't screaming."

John moved to stand next to him at the railing, looking out to sea. "Semantics. Everything alright?"

"When are you shipping him out?"

"Soon. The SGC needed to do a sweep of their personnel, since we know he has at least one accomplice there. They've rounded up a few people, so we should be able to ship him out at the next data burst."

"Just…get him out of here."

"Yeah. I want the fucker to just be out of our lives."

Rodney finally turned to Sheppard, his eyes wide and pleading. "Then ship him out now."

The Colonel finally looked at him, silent for a minute before he responded. "I'll talk to Weir about moving the data burst to tomorrow."

McKay nodded, pulling his arms around himself, his gaze drifting back to the water.

"It's over, Rodney," Sheppard was staring out to sea again, his voice quiet. "Whatever he said, it doesn't matter. He can't touch you again."

"It won't be over until he's dead."

Sheppard threw him a startled look. "I don't think they plan to execute him."

Rodney turned back toward the door. "Then I recommend you get him out of Atlantis before he has an unfortunate accident."

"That's why he's under twenty-four-hour guard. There have already been several attempts."

"Where do they put civilians who kill other civilians who happen to be on a military base in another galaxy? Leavenworth? Somewhere else?"

"You're not going to kill him. Let the SGC handle it."

"If you don't get him off of Atlantis soon, you might be surprised," he finally said, weary. He looked at Sheppard one last time before he headed back into the city.

***

Carson knocked on Elizabeth Weir’s door frame, seeing as the door was already open and he didn’t want to just waltz in. “Do you have a moment?”

"Of course," she said, glancing up from her PDA. "I'm just trying to finish up a few things before the burst this morning."

"Aye, I had to work late last night to get my paperwork finished up early." He slid into her guest chair. "I won't take long. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and make sure everything was okay."

She raised an eyebrow.

He met and held her gaze. "Things have been a bit strained around here. I know no one has been making sure you actually got any sleep yourself, so I wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine, Carson," she said. "And who needs sleep, really?" She smiled slightly, as if she'd made a joke before sobering again. "I wasn't expecting that the colonel wanted to have Kramer moved so quickly. He'd originally talked about waiting until sometime next week."

"Elizabeth..." He shook his head, silently making a note to keep an eye on her. "I talked with John briefly yesterday evening. Rodney asked him to move the timetable up. I guess Rodney feels like he can't truly move on until the man is gone."

"Rodney did?" She paused again. "How is he doing? I was…pleased to see that he'd decided to stay on. I'm not sure what we would have done without him here."

"He's recovering. It will take time, and there are some scars he might not ever completely get over, but he will heal."

"Kramer being one of them?"

"Aye. There are a lot of complicated emotions tied up with that man he'll have to work through."

"When do you think he'll be ready to go back to work?"

"Actually, that's one of the other reasons I stopped by. I'm clearing him for duty. I'd suggest no off-world missions for another week or so, but getting back into the lab and back to his old routines will go a long way towards healing."

She looked at him for a minute before nodding. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Things have been going well with his sessions with Kate?"

His eyes widened as he realized Kate had obviously never reported their arrangement. "He, ah, hasn't had any with her, as far as I know. When I realized Rodney would never voluntarily go see her—and forcing the issue would have been counter-productive—Kate and I sat down and she coached me on how to get him to open up. I've been keeping her updated on what he tells me."

"Oh?" An eyebrow rose and she settled her elbows on her desk.

"I'm sorry I did'na tell you. I guess I assumed Kate would have included that in her report."

She paused again, seeming to weight her options before she commented. "She did tell me actually. I was curious to see what you'd say about it."

He sat back, carefully blanking out his expression. "Oh?"

"Not much goes on in this city without me knowing about it. You may want to keep that in mind." Her mouth twitched in a half smile, making the statement less of an accusation than a friendly reminder.

Beckett let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding and laughed a little. "I'm not sure whether that comforts or terrifies me."

"A little of both—at least for me," she said, this time the smile did appear. "Are you staying to see Kramer off?"

Chuckling, he let the last of his tension drain out. "Aye. I'm sure Rodney will be here, and I want to keep an eye on him. As I said, he is recovering, but I din'na trust Kramer not to say or do something to try and provoke him."

Elizabeth sighed. "How do people end up like him, doing the things he did?" She shook her head, continuing before he could answer. "I should try to finish up my files. I have about…" She checked her watch. "…fifteen minutes."

He rose, taking the dismissal for what it was. "I'll let you get finished. And thank you. For everything."

She nodded once, holding his eyes for a moment before she turned to pick up her PDA.

He wandered out into the gate room, knowing he didn't have enough time to go to the infirmary and get back. Finding an out-of-the-way corner, he leaned against the wall and watched the ebb and flow of activity, taking comfort in the fact that no matter what happened, Atlantis kept moving on.

***

Stepping out of the transporter, Rodney took a deep breath before moving down the short hallway to the control room. He was early, he knew, but he didn't want to actually meet Kramer in the hall.

If he didn't have to personally see the man transported to the SGC, then he wouldn't be here at all.

Climbing the stairs, he spotted Zelenka at the main console, preparing for the burst—a job he'd normally do if he were actually working. He moved to one of the far balconies overlooking the gate room below, leaning against the railing.

"Hello." Carson's voice floated to him from the shadows off to the side.

Rodney jumped, turning around to find the Scot. "Don't do that!"

Chuckling, Carson moved to stand next to him at the rail. "Sorry. I did'na know you didn't see me there. I thought that was why you came up here."

"No. I just wanted to watch, stay out of the way."

"Aye. This is a good place for that."

"Stay out of the…crush," he said, his hands gesturing before dropping to their side. "Sheppard's not here yet?"

"Soon, I'd imagine. I think they want to let the SGC know what's coming through first, then they'll bring Kramer in at the last possible moment."

"Yes, yes, of course." Rodney turned, his eyes fixed on the gate below.

The wormhole below them whooshed to life, and from here they could hear Elizabeth explaining what was going on. "That's it then. Colonel Sheppard should be here with Kramer any second. He's sending two Marines through the Gate as guards—they'll come back again on the next Daedalus run."

"Who? Edwards and Matthews?"

"Aye, I believe so."

Rodney nodded, his eyes drifting to the control room, watching as Zelenka pressed the necessary commands to send the data burst through. He'd spent the last week re-coding everything to make sure they were only sending through the correct information—nothing extra.

A flurry of activity on the floor below drew his attention. Kramer was there—heavily restrained and guarded. Not only was Sheppard there with the two Marines, but Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne accompanied the group—guns all drawn.

Rodney nearly laughed out loud. What the hell did they think the unarmed, restrained Englishman was going to do to them?

Carson's voice was still low and soothing, his words echoing Rodney's thoughts. "There have been quite a few threats on Kramer's life, and that's with most people not knowing the full extent of what he did. Apparently John felt it necessary to discourage creative solutions to the problem."

"I'll give him a creative solution," Rodney mumbled, his eyes fixed on the man being led to the gate.

Carson's hand came up to rest on Rodney's arm. "You've been cleared to return to duty in the labs, don't do anything foolish."

Rodney turned his scowl on the doctor. "At this moment, I don't think I care."

Carson's eyes were understanding. "I know. But you will."

McKay sighed, turning back to the scene below. Sheppard had paused just before the gate, his eyes fixed on Weir on the balcony above, his hand on the radio in his ear.

Kramer used the time to look around, catching Rodney's eye, sending a smug smile his way.

Carson's hand tightened on his arm, holding him in place, although the doctor didn't say anything.

There was something about that smile that made his stomach clench every time. Rodney held the man's eyes for a minute, before having to look away, something sparking in the back of his mind.

Sheppard below, nodded, gesturing the guards forward with Kramer between them.

It was something about this whole situation that just…

His eyes flew open and Rodney turned, running for the other side of the control room, yelling for them to abort.

Carson yelled, but he wasn't fast enough to stop him.

One voice rose above the sudden commotion, a self-assured smirk that still gave him nightmares. “I’ll see you again soon, Rodney.”

"Shut down the god damned gate!" Rodney yelled as he tore into the main control room, sliding to a halt next to Zelenka, shoving him out of the way.

But it was too late. With a final smirk, Kramer stepped backwards through the gate, disappearing from Atlantis.

"Elizabeth, tell the SGC to block all transmissions. He has a sub-dermal transceiver and they know he's coming," Rodney's eyes were wide, pleading even as he heard Sheppard's footfalls running up the stairs.

"What the hell is going—" Sheppard was cut off by a transmission coming from the SGC.

“Doctor Kramer just stepped through the Stargate and disappeared. Standby for status update.”

Rodney swore his heart stopped beating.

General Landry's voice came over the connection a few minutes later. "Colonel Sheppard? It seems we missed a few of the infiltrators. In addition to Doctor Kramer, there were two other people that were beamed out using the stolen Asgard technology."

Rodney felt his knees crumble. "Oh god, oh god, oh god."

Carson and Sheppard both moved, each catching one of his arms. They maneuvered him into the hastily vacated technician's chair. "Put your head down and take a few deep breaths. I don'na want you to have a panic attack." Carson was using his calm doctor voice.

He kept repeating the phrase even as Carson and John's hands tightened on his arms.

"Do you have any way to track them and take them back into custody, sir?" Sheppard's voice was tight as he activated his radio.

"Carter's working on something, but she doesn't look too optimistic. What happened, Colonel?" Landry asked, his voice loud over the speakers.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, sir. We had Doctor Kramer in custody and ready to be handed over to you. Rodney yelled something about an abort right before the bastard stepped through the gate, and then we were told he had been beamed out of the SGC."

"Doctor McKay knew about this"? Landry's voice was tight. Rodney could hear the anger in it, but right now all he could think about was Kramer. The man was free. He should have killed him when he had the chance.

Sheppard's own anger sounded like it was walking the line of insubordination. "No, sir, he didn't. Kramer was looking up at him in the balcony and smiling when Doctor McKay suddenly called for the abort. When he's gotten over the shock of this latest fu…mistake, I'll get a full report from him."

"See that you do, Colonel. Is that's all?"

"Yes, sir. We'll check in again as soon as we have more information. Atlantis out," Sheppard said and a few seconds later the gate shut down with a snap-hiss.

Rodney still had his head between his knees, all the possibilities of how bad this was running through his mind like a freight train.

Carson hadn't left his side, one hand making soothing circles on his back. Sheppard kneeled down, moving his own hand to Rodney's back as well. "Hey, it's all right. We might not have him in custody, but he's not going to be able to get anywhere near the SGC again. And there's no way in hell he'll make it back to Atlantis."

"They have information on propulsion systems, weapons, ATA gene therapy, the structural DNA changes…everything! You don't comprehend just how bad this is."

"I know. But they didn't manage to get any of the really classified stuff—you found a way to stop him before they did. The data burst from when we caught him held the most critical stuff, and Carter personally cleaned it with a fine-tooth comb and went through all their systems to find the bugs. They might have missed a few personnel, but they didn't get the information they really wanted," Sheppard continued.

Rodney finally raised his head, trying to ignore all of the stares from the full compliment of control room personnel. "You just don't understand, do you? I saw that look, that smile. Kramer has all the information he wants, needs."

Sheppard shrugged. "I think some of that was purposely to unsettle you. But even if he does, we'll deal with it when it happens. He's on Earth now, which means he's their problem at the moment. We have to focus on Atlantis and our own issues."

"No, he's not on Earth. He's winging his way to some unknown destination. Right now, I think I'd like to panic and freak out in private if you don't mind."

"And that destination is in the Milky Way. If they had the ability to build intergalactic ships, we would have seen evidence of that by now. They could have taken the plans for the Daedalus or Prometheus. And from what I've read of Ba'al and the Trust, they don't take kindly to screw-ups. I'm willing to bet our buddy Kramer is probably in for a lot worse time than he would have gotten under SGC arrest."

"Oh, but he didn't screw up," Rodney said, slowing rising to his feet, his balance a little unsteady. "He came here to get information and that he has. I was just a…a bonus."

"He got nuggets of information, but nothing major, nothing critical. That's one of the reasons he wanted you—he didn't need a database if he had your brain to tap." Sheppard rose with him, his expression firm and determined.

Carson rose as well, one hand still steadying him. “Why don’t we take a walk to the infirmary? I want to keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t pass out.”

"I'm fine," McKay complained, but didn't pull his arm from Beckett's grasp.

"Listen to Carson, Rodney. You look a little pale," Elizabeth said, her voice kind, calm, worried.

Carson started walking, pulling him gently along. "You're not quite in shock, but close enough that I want to give you a once-over, then I'll find you a nice quiet place to rest for a few minutes."

Rodney was going to protest, but changed his mind, suddenly feeling horribly tired, his limbs gaining a few extra pounds.

He didn't remember much of the walk, or the exam, just Carson pulling on him, taking his blood pressure. Then he was pushed back into the bed, the lights dimming. "Just lie back for a bit and rest if you can. I'll be back to check on you in a bit." Carson's hand was warm on his arm. "Rodney, whatever happens, Kramer is gone for now, and if he does ever pop up again, you won't face him alone." Not waiting for a reply, Carson let go and moved away.

McKay drifted off, letting the half-light of the infirmary blanket him, offering a sense of security he wished they really had. Yes, Kramer was gone, but Rodney knew it wouldn't be the last time they saw him.

And beyond everything else, that's what worried him the most.

***

The End


End file.
